


Bonds

by CorsetJinx



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Blood, Bond level exploration, Building trust, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 61,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: Building relationships with one's Servants takes time and effort. Sometimes there's pitfalls along the way, but you've got to keep at it.





	1. Bonds - Arjuna

{Meeting - Bond level 0}

"Servant, Archer." He says quietly once the roar of Chaldea's summoning apparatus has died down. "My name is Arjuna. Master, please utilize me to my fullest."

The way he says it is so calm and formal that she almost feels like they ought to be onstage. Actors in a play, perhaps. Arjuna's gaze is dark but polite yet she still feels a weight settle on her shoulders being under it.

"Right." She says, snapping out of her daze. In the bright lights of the facility Arjuna remains shadowed, somehow. As though he does not want to be seen.

Maybe it's an archer thing. Maybe she'll be able to talk past the lump in her throat and ask if he's okay.

"I'm Rem." She offers him her hand, smiling as bright as she can. "Nice to meet you, Arjuna."

He looks at her hand before taking it, gloved fingers warm and dependably solid around her own. It's a light handshake, perfectly professional, and he draws back once the appropriate amount of time has passed. The patient but guarded look on his face doesn't change, even as she begins to explain the oddity of their predicament to him.

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"You are up early, Master." Arjuna greets her softly one morning. "Is all well?"

She has to take a moment to bring the world back into focus. There's a faint buzzing in one ear that won't go away and she's begun to wonder if she ought to get it checked out. Around them the mana battery that is Chaldea hums and Rem wipes at her eyes to clear them.

It's been a long two weeks and these are the first real words Arjuna has spoken outside of combat. That it's an inquiry about her health rather than simple acknowledgment of her orders isn't surprising. There's still a polite distance between them - something she's been meaning to tackle.

 _Hopefully_ it'll be easier than fixing their singularity problem.

"Thought I'd actually grab breakfast before heading to class." Rem tries to smile and finds that the muscles in her face feel worn. She's been trying to smile a lot lately. Jeanne makes it look so easy.

"I see." Arjuna inclines his head to her, courteous and reserved. "Please inform me should anything regarding our mission arise. My bow is at your disposal."

"Yeah..." Rem hears the word tumble out of her mouth slowly, but Arjuna is already leaving. Her eyes follow the straightness of his back as he walks but he does not turn around.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"It would be easier to see the enemy's approach from above." Arjuna remarks with a faint scowl. His eyes are on the ruined buildings and their crumbling rooftops, searching for any advantage they might be able to use.

"Did you ever fight dragons back home?" Rem asks without thinking, trying to remember to breathe slowly so that the smell of smoke doesn't make her sick.

When she looks up Arjuna shakes his head. His bow is in his hand, somehow still a pure white despite all the battles they've fought to this point.

"I am poorly equipped to deal with creatures out of western myth." Arjuna replies, gaze fixed on a building in particular. It looks sturdier than the others. It also faces the direction their enemy had last come from, which was a plus.

"However," he adds, almost too low for her to hear, "few things can withstand my arrows."

She doesn't know why, but something in his voice makes her shiver a little. Despite the heat of raging fires and the noonday sun she feels cold.

Arjuna does not notice - or does a very good job of pretending. He's gone in a whisper of mana, dissolving into blue wisps and reappearing on the roof.

She almost feels pity for the next target his bow finds.

* * *

{Bond level 3}

This feels a lot like a bad idea but her curiosity won't leave it alone. She tries to think of various ways to ask what she wants to know, keeps herself up for a few hours each night just to reread parts of the book that's weighed down a corner of her desk for a month. In the end it feels a little more right to just come out and ask before she loses her nerve.

So, book in hand, she goes out in search of Arjuna and finds him in a nook of the solarium. He's made a comfortable little place for himself, a small collection of books nestled beside him. She almost feels bad for interrupting his quiet time with her presence. But then he looks up, expression smooth and eyes patient, clearly waiting for her to speak.

The words stick to the sides of her throat as she tries to summon them up.

"Is it true?" She asks, showing him the book and it's faded but familiar title. Arjuna's gaze darkens immediately and she senses that a line has been crossed, somewhere, even if she could not see it.

"Is what true?" Arjuna asks slowly, looking up at her through his lashes. His face is blank but he does not look calm per say.

She fidgets with the book, running her thumbs over its weathered surface. "Any of it, really. I know details tend to get embellished and people's opinions can skew the story but -"

A white glove enters her vision suddenly. Arjuna takes the _Mahabharata_ from her grasp with surprising gentleness. Perhaps it's because of the book's age. Or he's trying to remain composed. Before she can think to ask which it is he's thumbing through the yellowed pages, skimming over the text without really reading it.

"You inquired once if there was anything that I hated." Arjuna remarks, eyes still on the book. The sound of turning pages seems too loud.

With a decisive _snap_ he closes it and lifts his head once more. She tries not to shiver at the look in his eyes. Arjuna turns the book in his hands, offering it to her.

"I do not like it when others attempt to grow too close. Please remember that, Master."

 _But I'm supposed to be close to you, right?_ She wants to say. The book's cracked binding is familiar under her fingers, but no longer comforting. The title glints in the corner of her vision. Mockingly, almost.

"But -" her mouth forms the word but the sharpening of Arjuna's stare cuts her off. It makes her insides twist a little to see that look.

"I wish you a good day, Master." With that Arjuna is standing, close enough to tower over her a little. Just for a second. Then he is collecting his books and leaving.

She is alone in the solarium, feeling as though they've taken three steps back when she'd hoped to make one forward.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

A quick search over the internet is enough to confirm that she has no chance of replicating any of the food from Arjuna's homeland. The spices aren't anything she'd expect Chaldea to have and she's almost afraid to upset the rhythm of the kitchen and cafeteria. Arjuna doesn't usually take meals with others either, which adds another wrench into her tentative operation.

He hadn't said anything to reference their little conversation, but there was a greater sense of distance between them now. She'd only been certain it wasn't her own imagination when Marie Antoinette had taken her aside and asked if everything was alright.

 _I don't know._ She'd messed up. Arjuna was cordial, to a point, but she wasn't keen on testing his patience at the moment. He wasn't like Siegfried, who would clearly broadcast his feelings on a matter if he felt the need for words to be unnecessary.

In the end, Rem secured a plate of the freshest sweets she could find after training and marched through Chaldea's halls like a woman on a mission.

_(Amadeus still earned himself a punch on the arm for whistling and clapping when he'd seen her face. Of all the Servants she'd picked up, **he** was the **last** one she wanted to start the rumor mill.)_ ****

Arjuna opened the door on the second knock, looking perplexed until he saw her face. The dorm rooms didn't really have peep holes, so unless one could see through walls there was no way of knowing just who to expect. She thought he might close the door in her face. Instead he glanced at the plate she held in her hands and then back up, one brow rising slowly.

"I'm sorry." She said before he could ask what she was doing here. "For being inconsiderate and rude. I shouldn't have pushed you to talk about things you aren't comfortable with."

He stared, quirked brow lifting a little higher as she offered him the plate. 

"I didn't know what you might like..." She trailed off, a faint smile curving her mouth. "But here's a little bit of everything. If possible I'd like to start over again, Arjuna. If you're willing."

Arjuna took the plate from her carefully, eyeing a few of the more outlandish confections with wary curiosity. She lowered her hands slowly, trying not to fidget as he pondered a response. When he looked up once more his eyes were almost soft.

A corner of his mouth lifted, just the littlest bit, and that alone seemed like a victory.

"You are very kind, Master. I am blessed to receive such generosity." Arjuna lowered his gaze, offering her a dip of his head. "We shall each have to do our best tomorrow. Should you require me, please do not hesitate to call."

That... wasn't what she had expected. But it was progress, or so she hoped.

"Thank you." She managed a smile, plucking up a kernel of energy to make it seem bright. "I... I hope you have a good night's rest, Arjuna. You can rely on me too, if you need it."

The suggestion of a smile left his face and his expression shuttered. Arjuna brought the plate a little closer to himself and began to shut the door.

"Good night, Master. Sleep well."

 _Back to square one._ She held her breath and then let it out as a sigh once she was away from the door.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

As the last of the enemies faded from sight Arjuna lowered his bow. He could sense no other Servants besides the ones next to him. Not even the corpses dared to stir in the wake of the battle. He eyed them just in case, ready to nock an arrow at a moment's notice. 

It had been a long day. He could feel his energy slipping bit by bit. The opportunity to rest would need to come soon - for their Master's sake as well as his own. Doubtless the others were tired as well, no matter the brave face their Shielder put on for her Senpai.

"I shall patrol the area, Master." Arjuna announced, just loud enough for her and Mashu to hear. "If they are indeed gone, we may begin searching for a place to make camp."

He looked at her to confirm her response, not surprised to see lines of strain marking her face. His master was not a trained warrior despite holding up well in the heat of the moment. The seemingly endless piles of corpses did not help the added stress of providing mana to four Servants.

It would be easier once they found a leyline. He, at least, could draw mana off of that and lessen the burden on their Master. Perhaps the others possessed the skill as well. Ruler was an adept enough survivalist without a Master; able to draw energy in from their surroundings to sustain herself. Mashu was only a Demi-Servant, still human enough to get by on her own from time to time.

"Understood." Rem said at last, drawing him back to the present. She grunted as she pushed herself up to stand, one of the Command Seals flashing as she issued an order. Arjuna felt the spell wrap itself around him, supplying much needed mana to his body.

An increase to his evasion. His master was determined to prove herself generous, it seemed.

"Be safe, Archer." She urged, defaulting to his Servant class since they were still on the field. He approved of the measure, pleased that she had thought of it all on her own.

"Yes." He replied, dissolving into blue mist.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

He had never been inside his master's room before. It looked, Arjuna thought, much like his own. And nearly every other room in Chaldea. Only the personal touches were different. Little curiosities that his master had picked up here and there, or brought in from a home that likely no longer existed.

The furniture was sparse as well - limited mainly to the full sized bed in the corner and a desk with its chair in the other. Arjuna hesitated in the doorway, uncertain where to sit.

 _If_ his master wanted him to sit.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

His master emerged from the dark blot of her closet, arms laden with books and what looked to be a map. Arjuna felt himself move to help, to at least take half the burden so that it might be shared. A part of him was relieved.

To be invited into a Master's personal quarters usually meant one thing, but from the look of it they would be discussing war tactics.

"It is no trouble." Arjuna hummed thoughtfully. "Have you decided what our strategy will be?"

"That's why you're here." His master grinned, setting her share of the books on her desk. "To make sure everything's sound."

 _Well then._ Arjuna nodded, turning his attention to the map he held.

"Very well. I shall do my best."

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"Thank you." Arjuna smiled, reveling in the newfound strength coursing through his body. It felt right. _Familiar._ As though he were a little closer to becoming what Arjuna subconsciously knew he _should_ be.

"My pleasure." Rem allowed herself a moment of pride, grinning almost ear to ear as she met Arjuna's gaze. "I'd be a lousy Master if I didn't try to help you out."

He hummed, not commenting on her remark. Something new lingered in his eyes. A spark she hadn't seen before.

"It is my pleasure to serve you earnestly, Master." Arjuna lowered his voice, a hand pressing against his chest.

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"Master." Arjuna called, lifting his voice just enough to be heard down the hallway. She turned to look at him, brows raised and eyes curious as he closed the distance between them.

A pity that it could not be a gentle conversation between them. His master hardly needed any more stress.

"I am sorry," Arjuna began gently, "but it has to do with the secondary unit."

Her face fell, as he thought it might. It surprised him that he felt a little sadness at how the light in her eyes died.

"Tell me." She managed to wrestle her composure back into place, standing tall despite what she likely sensed to be awful news.

A far sight better than what he had initially expected. Than the childish girl he'd thought her to be.

"They are stable for now, at least." He explained, partially to soften the blow.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" She reached for him, concern in her eyes. He shied away from her touch, wincing as the stabbing pain behind his eyes intensified.

An archer who couldn't concentrate was no good at all. He would hold the team back like this - if he even managed to fire his bow correctly.

"I will be all right, Master." Arjuna assured, brushing her hand away before she could properly touch him. All he needed was a bit of rest. To conserve what mana he had left. At least until they returned to Chaldea. _Then_ he could collapse as though dead and let his deprived circuits soak up all the mana they could.

"I have mana to spare." She said slowly, watching him uncertainly. When he didn't respond she carefully added, "It's just us right now. Mashu is good on energy right -"

Stripping a glove off his hand Arjuna blindly reached for her own. His fingers brushed warm skin and the contact sent crackling heat through his veins. Her fingers closed around his own, steady and supportive.

Almost immediately the pain receded. Her mana soothed the desperate cry of his senses. Stabilized him. He heard her shift her weight, stepping closer to him after a moment. Abruptly he let go - startling her and grit his teeth against the outraged protest of his body.

It wasn't anywhere close enough, that tiny amount of mana. Enough to ease him for now but...

 _No._ Any more than that and he would put her on the verge of collapse. He needed to restrain himself.

"Arjuna..."

"I am fine." He cut her off, pulling his glove back on. "Thank you, Master."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

It wasn't expected, but she didn't resist when a white gloved hand tipped her chin up. Arjuna leaned down before she could ask him what was wrong. Their lips met slowly and she fleetingly wondered if this was one of those odd dreams that sometimes came when she slept.

The grip around her chin tightened briefly and Arjuna pressed into the kiss, nipping once at her lip. She covered his wrist with her hand, squeezing gently.

It felt warmer in the room when they parted. She blinked, staring up into the darkness of Arjuna's eyes. His mouth curved, a full unrestrained smile taking over his face.

"You've seen my face. How sad. How terribly sad." Arjuna let go of her chin, gently shaking off her hand. "Let us keep this a secret, Master."


	2. Bonds - Karna

{Bond level 0}

“Servant, Lancer.” His voice just barely rises over the hum of Chaldea’s machines, calm and smooth as a skipping stone. Blue eyes remain fixed on her and she thinks that his stare alone might pierce the mightiest of armor at a glance. It’s a little intimidating. The way he holds himself is attentive, as though he expects an attack at any given moment. Behind him a tattered cloak (cape?) flutters, red as a sunset.

“My name is Karna. You may use me as you wish, Master.” He adds, almost dismissively. She can’t read his face – there’s no expression to decipher. For all she might know he could be hollow on the inside, dead as the placid nature of his eyes.

Still. He’s her Servant and from the looks of it _(from the drain she can feel on her mana)_ he’s powerful.

“Rem.” She answers, extending her hand. He stares at it, studying the Command Seals on her skin, before gently enfolding her hand in his own. Karna is warm – _very_ warm. The black material covering his hand feels soft. It doesn’t seem sturdy enough to be any kind of armor.

* * *

{Bond level 1}

“It won’t be easy,” Rem frowns, studying the crude map sketched in the dirt. A frustrated part of her wants to chuck the stick she’d used to draw it into the wilderness. But that wouldn’t accomplish anything and she didn’t need to look like an idiot in front of her group. “But if we divide our forces we might be able to cover more ground. As long as another Servant doesn’t pop up, we should be alright.”

Marie Antoinette giggles, twirling a lock of her hair. “I can cover more distance as a Rider. If you need me, I shall come to you at once.”

“Thanks, Marie.” Rem smiles. It’s easy to smile at the cheerful Queen. “But to be safe, you should probably take someone with you just in case.”

Their teams drew lots to decide who would go with who. Mashu drew herself up to give them all a brief reminder of their objectives. Search for the Saint, avoid the Dragon Witch’s forces where possible. No one needed reminding about the massive disadvantage they faced.

“Are you okay with this, Karna?” Rem asked, hesitating to leave. He’d spoken less than five words during the whole briefing, shifting his attention between the sketch of a map and the surrounding countryside.

“It does not really matter.” Karna turned his head to look at her, expressionless and intense as always. “If the order comes from my Master, I shall carry it out.”

She frowned, aware that Mashu was waiting behind her but now feeling even less certain about leaving. Karna’s stare didn’t waver. He didn’t blink either – hadn’t for as long as he’d been her Servant. Perhaps he just didn’t need to. It was one more unnerving thing about him, something that set him apart from everyone else she’d come to know.

Karna raised his chin slowly, indicating Mashu’s waiting figure. “You should go, Master. The enemy will not wait for us.”

“…right.” She sighed, defeated. Turning away from him she offered Mashu a brief nod. “Let’s go.”

* * *

{Bond level 2}

The sun always seemed to shine when Karna tagged along with their party. Maybe it was a fluke – or they just had really good luck in those times. But so far, without fail, whenever Karna rayshifted with the rest of them the sun would peek out from behind any cloud or cover that had previously obscured it. Each time it did Karna would turn his face up to greet it, eyes closing as he basked in the warmth like a child in their parent’s affection. Looking at him like that, sunlight warming the paleness of his skin and glinting in his hair, Karna seemed softer. A little closer to human.

_“Thank you, father.”_ She’d heard him whisper once, just before a skirmish. His voice had been so soft, the enemy’s attack so abrupt, that she was almost certain she had imagined it.

But it was nice to see a change come across his usually blank face. Even if it was just for a second.

* * *

{Bond level 3}

Of all the Servants who made use of Chaldea’s training facilities, Karna currently held the dubious honor of being its number one visitor. The hour of day or night didn’t appear to matter – he would stay however long he liked and then disappear to who knew where. She’d caught a glimpse of him once. A split second of distraction from her harried run to her classes. Against the whiteness of the facility Karna was a deep blazing red, his lance a deadly streak of gold as he swung it too fast for her eyes to follow.

She was sure it would have been fascinating to watch, had she lingered. In actual combat Karna was a force to be reckoned with, outpacing even her most nimble Servants at their current level. But Dr. Roman would be upset if she was late again – he’d already warned her against a repeat of last Tuesday when she’d slept in. So she put her back to the training room’s window, made her legs move faster than she really wanted them to.

The flash of red and glint of gold stayed in the back of her mind, however. For the rest of class she could see it play out over and over again, just at the edge of her thoughts.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

“Master.” Karna’s voice interrupted her thoughts, pulling her out of the haze. She blinked, lifting her gaze from the ring of firelight that surrounded their camp. It was surprisingly handy to have Karna around outside of battle, as it turned out. Why bother with matches or flint and tinder when one could generate their own obedient flames?

Rem blinked, pushing aside the tiredness. “Yes? Have the monsters come back?”

They weren’t prepared for another fight. Not so soon. She’d barely been able to assist Marie in healing the others who’d been wounded. The first Command Seal on her hand was still faded, its appearance looking like an old bruise. She wasn’t sure when it would come back. _If_ it would at all. That was one of the things which kept her up at night – if Chaldea’s supply of mana would one day run out and leave them all high and dry.

“No.” Karna’s voice was soft. Almost mild. “It is late, Master. You should sleep. Staying awake and worrying will not help you when tomorrow comes.”

_Ouch._ She hid a wince – or rather, tried to. He probably saw though it anyway. Sometimes his bluntness was still a little much.

“I’ll be alright.” She assured him, working up what she hoped was a confident smile. “It’s just –“

“You do not have to feel the need to lie to me, Master.” Karna cut her off smoothly before the words could finish their formation. Straight and to the point. Perhaps even a little stern. She feels scolded even though there is no judgment in Karna’s pale eyes.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

It happens by accident. His Master ducks into the kitchen with a list in her hand, murmuring to herself as she heads for one of the well-stocked shelves. There is a basket on her other arm – one that she begins to fill with various items as she reads from the list. He catches the words _can’t believe this_ and _who needs this stuff anyway_. Were he a gambling man he might have put coin towards either Da Vinci or Dr. Roman being the culprit of his Master’s irritation. Still, he remains silent so that he doesn’t disrupt her concentration.

When she turns, basket laden with things he is fairly certain are meant to form a potion of some kind, she pauses. Karna freezes as well, a raspberry barely touching his lips. His mouth tingles with the taste of them. Juice from the berries coats the tips of his fingers. Unconsciously he laps at them to catch the liquid before it can trail towards his chin. It’s not intentional, whatever is causing her face to turn red _(he knows the truth of it, simply by a glance, but he won’t bring it up unless she is willing to speak of it)_ but Karna does possess manners. And it is generally rude to let one’s food dribble down one’s face while their master is in their presence.

Fingers clean, he pops the berry into his mouth and waits; savoring the taste and curious to hear what his Master has to say.

She swallows, list crumpled in her hand and he can see a little bit of ink staining her fingers. The mark of a magus, he’d once thought. Ink tended to creep into their skin and stay, no matter the number of times they might try and be rid of it. His Master clears her throat and marshals her composure admirably.

“You shouldn’t eat too many of those.” She tells him, almost with the sternness of a parent. Or an older sibling. He’s only briefly known the joy of one and never the other, so it is hard to say. “They’ll make you sick.” She adds.

He is a Servant. Eating is not strictly necessary for his body to function, but it _is_ enjoyable.

“Thank you for your concern, Master.” Karna says gently. He hopes it comes out gentle, at least. He’s trying to get better at communicating with words, even if they always seem to fall short of what he truly wants to convey. “Would you like some?”

He offers her the bowl. There is still a generous portion left. Not all raspberries, mind. He knows that they are a favorite of some of the other Servants as well. His Master eyes the collection curiously, making a face at the blueberries and grapes. _Ah_ , he thinks, _so she does not like those._ He has been blessed to learn something new about her. From the bottom of his heart, he is grateful.

She is hesitant to come any closer but eventually does so. Her choice is a strawberry, still dark red with its little seeds; close to the untouched top of the bowl. He says nothing as she twirls it by the stem and cradles it in her hand, presumably for her trip back to wherever she’d come from.

“Thanks.” She smiles. It’s soft. Genuine.

He nods, wishing he could return it.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

His little brother has arrived at Chaldea and Karna is not certain what he feels. There is a pull, yes. Echoes of what he’d felt all those years ago – from the days of his mortal life. Arjuna meets his eye across the room and they regard one another warily. The air still crackles with the power of their Master’s summoning. Others might use that as the excuse for the tension in the air. Arjuna’s hands curl for the briefest of moments, as if he might reach for his bow. In response, Karna feels the temptation to call forward his lance.

It has been millennia since they saw one another last. His throat tightens. Whether because of the memory of an arrow piercing it or another, fresher emotion, Karna cannot immediately tell.

He is overjoyed, because he can see his brother again. That now they have a chance to fulfill their mother’s wish – to stand side by side rather than with weapons drawn against each other. He is dismayed, because Arjuna’s gaze is dark with far too many words and thoughts that have never seen the light of day. And because Arjuna is Arjuna _(blessed, beloved Arjuna – the celebrated warrior, the warrior prince, his brother)_ it is likely that those feelings will forever be pushed into the blackness of night.

Karna relaxes his body, dropping all tension and tries to soften his gaze. Their Master is glancing between them, a knowing trepidation on her face. Arjuna is slower to release his wariness, but it comes bit by bit like the shift of the wind. Faint lines of stress smooth away, the roiling surge in Arjuna’s eyes swallowed back. For now.

“Arjuna.” Karna greets softly, hands loose at his sides.

There is a stirring in the placid mask his little brother has donned. Something not quite regret and not entirely rage or disgust. Arjuna aches, but he will not say it.

“Karna.” Arjuna answers politely.

It is enough, for this moment.

* * *

{Bond level 7}

 

There is music coming from somewhere, lilting and strange. It tugs at her feet and hands, pulls her along and off the path before anyone else is the wiser. She has a vague memory of seeing Diarmuid reach for her, his face pale and his eyes uncharacteristically frightened. His fingers miss her arm by a mere inch and her awareness of the world flows down to practically nothing. There is only the music – if Amadeus was here he might have clapped with joy because it sounds like nothing any human hands could have produced. Or maybe he would be disgusted, if only because it had not been _him_ who composed it. The thought brings a flicker of mirth to her disjointed mind before that feeling darts off, fleeing to make room for more of the music.

Her feet are moving to the sound and she comes back into herself, dancing madly to instruments she’s never heard before. She doesn’t care about grace or art. There is only the urge to _move_ , the compulsion that she _must_ dance. And she does, going from partner to partner so quickly that it makes her head spin. She sees the flash of a familiar face – wants to call out for help but it feels like her mouth is sealed shut. The music keeps on going and she can feel a burn starting in her legs, the pulse of a stitch in her side almost like a knife between her ribs.

Someone passes her a cup of something that smells like wine. The liquid inside is dark and thick, sloshing over her hand as the cup is pressed into her palm. She has the compulsion to drink _(she is so thirsty, how long has she been dancing?)_ but it is taken from her hold before she can bring the rim up to her lips. There is a man standing before her, his eyes bright gold and his hair a windswept brunet mess. He grins and it’s like watching the sun stream in through a window, brightening everything it touches.

“You shouldn’t drink anything from here.” He tells her conspiratorially, as if they were close friends. She cannot answer _(why can’t she speak?)_ but his arm is around her waist and he whirls her away from the hand that tries to steal her away _(fingers like roots, nails like claws)_

They dance in and around the others in the vast chamber they currently occupy. It _feels_ vast – how else could the music echo the way it does? He holds her tightly when another tries to reach for her arm, flashes the one so brave and foolish a frighteningly bright smile. Whoever, _whatever_ , they are quickly scurry away at the sight. But another pair of hands appear and she feels them snag her by the shoulder and pull her away. Her last sight of him is of golden eyes and a reassuring smile. She feels cold the instant she’s out of his orbit, dragged back into another mad dance.

Rama is dancing too. She can see him now, feet a blur and his hair spread out around him like a banner. He looks different – no longer the brazenly confident young man who had been a king. His skin changes color _(it is all colors, from darkest black to palest blue and his face is ever serene)_ and sometimes it looks as though he has too many arms. Four, six – perhaps even a hundred. There is another dancing with him, matching him step for step, hands touching his in a gesture of tenderness before they part again.

_(A woman, her face a myriad of features. Wild eyes, smiling lips, serenity and chaos all in one, one in all.)_

Sita dances with Rama as Ozymandias dances with Neferati, as Enkidu with Gilgamesh. Always together, then apart. Back again and whirling away.

Her head spins with it all, throbbing from the music. She wants to throw up.

Blue tipped fingers pry her from her current partner, lightly slapping away the fruit she’d nearly brought up to her mouth. She looks up _(her head is lulling on her neck, she’s past exhausted but the music won’t let her stop)_ and meets knowing black eyes. Arjuna quirks his mouth as he spins her around, his shoulders bare of white and draped in gold. It jingles with his every move, spilling down his chest and hips. Hands that could nearly be clawed keep her close and in the darkness of his eyes she can barely recognize him at all.

“You were almost too careless, Master.” He says, suddenly much closer than he had been before. The words are gentle but she has the sense that she’s being mocked. Her lungs have begun to burn – only partly due to the pressure of his hand around her neck.

She swallows, able to find the self-control to fumble for his wrist. They are still moving, dancing to the deadly music, and Arjuna waits patiently for her to give up and die or foolishly try and fight. There is another’s stare peering out from behind his eyes – at once Arjuna and not.

_(Rama is both himself, the valiant and foolish boy-king, and a god of creation. There is no space between them, not even for the tip of a knife to prise through. It makes sense that for Arjuna it might be the same. He is the child of a god and a mortal woman, after all.)_

“Arjuna.” She croaks, the pulse in her ears loud and unbearable. The music is gone, thanks to that. Only the sound of her own blood rushing can be made out and she is afraid of the spots now dancing in the corners of her vision.

Sri Krishna – _Arjuna_ \- smiles that same damnably patient smile and lets her go. Her lungs fill with much needed air but the music is back, nagging at the edges of her buzzing hearing. Someone grabs her, rough hands that bruise and the last she sees of him is that amused, unearthly smirk.

Her legs give out, unable to support her any longer despite the insistent yank and tug of magic. She tumbles, nearly hitting the oddly white, bleached-looking ground. Something sharp nicks her leg and the pain comes back with a vengeance. A pair of warm hands catch her – save her from impaling herself on broken fragments of bone jutting up at all angles. It is Karna who helps her up, easing her off her feet in a spin. He looks different too – light spills out from the planes of his face and from behind his placid eyes. He shines, almost as bright as Ozymandias.

“We are nearly out, Master.” Karna tells her softly. One of his eyes is red, like the blazing heart of a star, and she can’t look at it for too long because it hurts.

_Where are we?_ She wants to ask, but her mouth still won’t move. _How can we get out?_

She’s more or less sagging against him when a new sound creates distortion in the music. Karna holds her up without effort, his pace almost faster than that of the instruments themselves. If she weren’t so tired it would be embarrassing as hell to think about how he’s pretty much the only thing keeping her on her feet. The cut on her leg burns. Warm liquid drips from it, but everywhere she manages to look the floor is still eerily white.

Someone is fighting. She catches the sound of metal on metal and tries to turn her head. The effort makes her list to the side and Karna gently cups her cheek so that her head does not simply roll off her neck. Blue flashes in the corner of her vision, accompanied by gold. Karna’s lips brush her temple and she has the notion that he is talking, trying to tell her something, but the words slip right out of her ears before she can grasp them.

“Dance with me.” Rama – _Vishnu who is Rama who is Vishnu_ – says. He offers her one of his many hands and she takes it of her own free will. Sita is gone but Rama’s eyes are alight even so. He's leading her away from the fighting, step by careful step.

The world is shaking - or her vision is swimming, it could be both. She wants to ask Rama what he's doing here when he had last been in Chaldea. Rama laughs, the air smelling of newly bloomed lotuses thick in the air around him. 

"The gods love music." He tells her. The shaking is getting worse in her vision. She's pretty sure that the floor itself is bucking yet every step Rama takes is slow and sure. "Tonight was a night for all things, but I came because I wanted to. And you needed the help after all, it seems."

"You are lucky that ended where it did." A woman's voice interrupts.

Turning her head to look, she sees a long spear the color of fresh blood and a woman clad in black looking down on them with clear disapproval. She tries to open her mouth, perhaps to apologize, but the world blurs one last time and she fades away with it.

* * *

{Bond level 8}

His master is not one that enjoys a lot of bed rest. He learns this after he finds her attempting to shuffle out of her room, blearily confused when he steps in front of her to block her path. She is still much too pale, dark circles under her eyes even after several days of uninterrupted sleep.

The near miss in the forest had certainly taken it's toll. Her mana is still badly depleted, faint no matter how he strains his senses.

"You should be in bed, Master." He tells her, already lifting a hand to turn her back around. She doesn't brush it away - though that is only because she simply lacks the necessary energy to do so.

"Been in bed." She responds around a yawn, covering her mouth at the last minute. "I'm too tired to sleep any more. I need to do something."

Karna squeezes her shoulder gently. He can feel the fragility of her form through the heavy hoodie she wears to bed. It's not that she has lost weight - the incident from before nearly drained her to the bone.

If he were to press just right, his fingers might slip through her and touch only air.

"Shall we take a walk then?" He asks. It is against Dr. Roman's orders for rest, but Karna understands the need to get up and move occasionally. And had he not mentioned to her that one's time in their room ought to be limited?

She brightens at the idea. It is good to see.

They wander down the hallway slowly, Karna shortening his strides to lessen the strain on her tender feet. She'd cut them open dancing on the floor of bone but hadn't noticed until they had made the emergency return to Chaldea. Away from the enrapturing music her senses had returned and so had the pain.

Scátath had yet to forgive any of them for being so careless. He could understand why and accepted the Queen of Shadows' ire.

"Thank you." His master said softly, drawing her hoodie in around herself.

Karna keeps his gaze focused ahead but his mouth curves just a little. "It is my pleasure, Master."

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"You did well, Master." He sets a hand on her head and lightly ruffles the loose mess of her hair. The streaks of blue in it are fading, which is something of a shame. Perhaps they will be able to find the necessary materials so she can dye it again.

She swats his hand away good naturedly, careful not to graze the spikes of his collar or armor. Her eyes are bright again, full of life. He is glad to see it.

"I'm not a kid you know." She steadies the bag of mana prisms on her shoulder, smiling as the little cubes clink and rustle. "Just because you're an old man doesn't mean you get to have bragging rights."

"I am not so old." Karna replies mildly, aware of the joke she had been trying to tell. Sometimes, he's found, it is more fun to act oblivious. "But you would still be my... kohai, was it?"

If not for his armor, he is certain she would have tried to take a jab at him. He can see it in her sidelong glance, how she reminds herself what parts of him are seemingly open for assault and decides against it.

"Don't start with me." She warns instead. "It's my first week back. I'll come up with a way to get you back for calling me that."

"Perhaps we can spar." He offers, partly just to see her reaction. But still, the idea has its draw.

* * *

{Bond level 10}

He is not terribly familiar with the act of kissing someone anymore. It has been millennia since his wife had lived. He is summoned from the throne of heroes irregularly enough that what memories he forms of such things tend to fade before long. But he knows how to ask and how to be gentle.

"May I kiss you, Master?"

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. He'd unknowingly chosen a somewhat inopportune time to ask - her stack of homework has only increased now that she is well and able to fight again. She looks up at him from the trenches of some magecraft theory and blinks, staring with bemused eyes.

"What?" She asks, certain that she has heard him wrong. Karna can see it written all over her face. She is convincing herself that she has misheard. That his question had been a trick of the humming air conditioning.

"I asked if I may be allowed to kiss you, Master." He reiterates slowly. It is worth it to watch the dawning realization cross her face.

She swallows, gently setting her pen down to nestle in the spread pages of her book. "A-alright, I guess. What brought this on?"

He answers her by leaning down and softly kissing her. She still draws back a little bit in surprise, but Karna cups the back of her head and slowly kisses her again. Her mouth is warm and soft. He can taste her chapstick with ever kiss she allows him to steal.

He'd forgotten how pleasant it could be. How much such closeness could make his head swim.


	3. Bonds - Siegfried

{Bond level 0}

"Servant, Saber." Siegfried stands taller than a good many of her current Servants, his stoic face betraying nothing. The sword he holds gleams in Chaldea's electric lights. It's almost as long as he is tall and a part of her wonders if he finds it tiring to carry it. She meets his eye as he finishes his introduction, offering him a faint smile in the hopes of helping him feel more at ease.

"Glad to have you with us, Siegfried." She offers him her hand. "Of the _Nibelungenlied_ , was it?"

It's embarrassing that the name of his legend trips up her tongue so much. She's certain that she pronounced it wrong and made a fool of herself. Siegfried, for his part, doesn't react. His hand closes around her own after a moment's pause. The leather of his glove is warm, worn smooth by the years of handling his weapon. They shake and he draws back, looking slightly more comfortable with that tiny bit of distance between them.

"Yes. Though I'm afraid you may not find much use for me besides slaying dragons." Siegfried looks down as he says it, like he's forgotten all he did for her and her companions in Orleans. Maybe he had. Or, and this she suspected to be closer to the truth, he just had that low of an opinion of himself.

"I doubt it." Lifting her hand she thumps him softly on the chest, smiling a little wider when he blinks. Siegfried looks surprised, which she counts as a victory in her favor. "C'mon, I'll introduce you to everyone else."

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"You would have us practice together?" Under the wild fringe of his hair Siegfried's brows draw together as he frowns. Balmung's tip nearly grazes the floor, at rest as he tries to make sense of her suggestion. She tries not to feel self-conscious under his direct stare. He can't help how intense he is, she's learned.

"I know it isn't done in a regular Holy Grail War." Rem answers him slowly. The air conditioning kept Chaldea's training rooms cool for the most part, but she suspected that once things got going that it will warm up. In the corner of her vision, idly leaning against the wall, Diarmuid waits for her orders. "But this isn't a regular war. Everyone has their own skills and I'd like to know how that will balance out once we've rayshifted into a Singularity."

Siegfried considers this. His stare moves to the Lancer patiently occupying the space closest to the door, considering the two spears at Diarmuid's side. A little further away, Arash was testing the string of his bow.

"You don't have to go all out." She assured, catching the thoughtful look in Siegfried's eyes. "I'm not gonna make you guys kill each other. But if we don't know what everyone's capable of or learn to work together then we'll be in for a mess down the road."

Something in Siegfried's posture relaxes. It's small, blink-and-you'll-miss-it sort of subtle. But it's there nonetheless.

"I understand." Siegfried inclines his head, holding Balmung with a steadier grip.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"You said you couldn't cover your back because of the curse you have." She muses, mostly to herself. Siegfried stops walking, turning to look at her from his spot up on the hill. He doesn't like walking ahead of her, she knows, so when the forest path had branched out and one of the routes was higher up she'd offered to let him take it. That way, she'd reasoned, he could keep her in his sight and she wouldn't be able to see his back.

Still, his hearing range was impressive.

"That is true." Siegfried admitted once he'd joined her on the main path again. Despite his size the sound of his footsteps was softer than she'd imagined. Not as quiet as an Assassin, but impressive nonetheless.

"But you have a cloak that makes you invisible." She pointed out curiously, catching his eye. "Wouldn't you have to cover your back in order for it to work?"

Under the dappled light that managed to creep between the leaves she almost missed the quirk of Siegfried's mouth. He looked away before she could get a good look at his face, voice soft as he replied.

"The magic it holds works regardless of my curse. So long as it is attached to my person."

 _Neat_ , she silently conceded, then pushed her legs to move faster in order to keep up with his stride.

* * *

{Bond level 3}

"I'm not a seafarer," Siegfried carefully pulls himself up with a wince, taking in his surroundings with a frown. "but that seemed reckless. Even for an emperor."

Already marching down from the head of the ship, Nero didn't appear to register Siegfried's mumbling. Rem tried not to smile. The churning of her stomach felt like a warning, that if she opened her mouth then something unpleasant might come out. After taking a few deep breaths through her nose she managed a nod, accepting Siegfried's offered hand. Across from them, poor Mashu was clutching the railing.

"Nero's really something." Rem carefully pushed the words out through the tightness of her throat, patting Siegfried's arm before going to help Mashu get her legs under her again.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

"You get along with Boudica well." Arash commented softly, situating himself a little closer to the fire. Around them the camp continued to stir, not yet wound down from the earlier fight. Siegfried nodded to show that he'd heard the Archer speak, focusing on getting the worst of the blood out of his armor.

The maintenance was soothing, if he was honest. War wasn't anything new to him, but the constant grind of opposition still took its toll.

"She is a good commander." Siegfried replied simply, looking up from his work when an unfamiliar set of footsteps passed by. A scout, from the looks of it. Sweat gleamed on the soldier's skin, armor showing signs of wear. Siegfried allowed himself a frown. Had there been another skirmish, so soon after the last?

Arash chuckled, the sound low and pleasant. "You are humble, I see. Well, it is an honor to fight beside someone as skilled as you."

"The honor is mine." Siegfried finds himself returning the smile after a moment, certain that there is no artifice in Arash's geniality. That too was a comfort, though he wasn't inclined to voice it.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

"Master," Siegfried lowered his voice, reaching for Balmung's pommel. "Please, cover my back."

She hesitated, looking at him with a mix of surprise and concern. Next to her Arash was already notching an arrow. Mashu, Nero and Diarmuid appeared to be holding their own against the monsters in the cave but their numbers still appeared pitiful next to the enemy's. Through the sounds of battle Siegfried caught his master's eye and held it, nodding once to express his trust in her judgment.

Despite the worry clouding her face she smiled, briefly, and took up the position behind him. As he turned to face the shambling skeleton that still clutched onto a shield and sword even in death, Siegfried felt comfortable hearing his master's raised voice at his back. The ground shook beneath his feet and he launched himself towards his foe.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

Da Vinci's prodding fingers were unwelcome but he tried not to let her attention bother him. Many were curious about the effects of Fafnir's blood and the invulnerability it had granted him. When Da Vinci asked for him to extend his arm he complied, frowning at the ticklish sensation of being touched.

"Amazing. Not even a mark!" Her face broke out into a wide smile, eyes twinkling. "Roman said that not even Romulus' spear could scratch you. Admittedly when I heard that, I was a little doubtful. That man's Divinity level was quite high - but here you are, in the flesh and you look as good as new!"

It wasn't really anything to be excited over, in his opinion. The effect of Fafnir's blood paled in comparison to some of the abilities other Servants possessed. His durability had certainly been tested in these last few battles, Siegfried would admit. While Romulus had failed to pierce his skin he'd still felt the pain of every blow that managed to land.

The glint of a knife snared Siegfried's attention and he instinctively drew his arm back sharply. Da Vinci blinked at him, her mouth open in a small 'o'.

" _Aw..._ " she whined, pouting at him. "Can't I try and take a sample? It's not every day that I get the chance to meet someone who's invulnerable!"

"Da Vinci?" Another voice called from the door leading out into the hall. Siegfried felt himself straighten up, quietly glad to see his master poking her head into the workshop. She glanced between them, taking in the tiny knife in Da Vinci's hand and his own defensive posture. Whatever she thought about it was carefully hidden away - probably to avoid hurting Da Vinci's feelings.

"There's something going on with Sheba. Dr. Roman asked me to come get you."

Da Vinci set her knife down with a sigh, lifting her heavy-looking stave as she moved to leave. She took her leave in four brisk strides, nearly upsetting the mechanical avian on her shoulder. "Really, of all the times..."

His master moved out of Da Vinci's way, glancing back at him with concern. "You okay?"

"Yes." Siegfried rolled his sleeve back down, covering his forearm once more. A nagging suspicion pressed in on him and he regarded his master for a moment. "There is no emergency with Sheba, is there?" He asked carefully.

Rem's smile was subtle and brief. She beckoned for him to join her, leaning against the door. "Probably better if she helps Dr Roman anyway. He runs himself ragged as it is. And I thought you could use some help."

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"Have you decided upon a wish for the Holy Grail, Master?" Siegfried watched her pause, spoon immersed in her cereal. It was an uncomfortably early hour for Chaldea. Past midnight and therefore considered late, too early to really be called morning. The cafeteria was empty except for them. He held the mug before him with both hands, glad to stave off the chill with its warmth.

She pushed her spoon around a little, no longer appearing as interested in eating it. A flicker of guilt rose within him. There wasn't much opportunity for downtime when they weren't attacking Singularities with all their focus. He shouldn't have asked such a weighty question when she was trying to relax.

Though, he supposed that if she were up at such an hour as he was then her mind was likely anything but calm.

"I thought I had." She answered slowly, finally taking a bite of her food. He waited, coffee steaming gently in his mug. "But now I think it would have been an awful wish." She added, wiping at the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

"How so?" The coffee was black, but not nearly as bitter as he'd thought it would be. It felt good as it slipped down his throat, spreading warmth through his body. His tail and wings twitched a tiny bit in appreciation. He barely noticed, now comfortable with their weight and presence.

Her spoon dipped back into the milk, stirring idly and making strange patterns with the remains of her food. She watched the swirling mess for a moment, mouth turned slightly downwards.

"I thought about wishing all of this had never happened." She admitted. "That Lev never got his hands on the Grail. That the bombing never took place. I thought that maybe, if I wished hard enough and collected enough Grails..." Her voice trailed off, eyes focused on something unseen just past his shoulder.

"I thought maybe I could put everything back the way it was." Rem sighed, letting her spoon go still. "But it doesn't work like that. Nothing this complicated could be solved by something that simple, right?"

Siegfried swallowed, lowering his mug carefully. "I am not sure. And I do not want to say."

"That's fair." She offered him a weak quirk of her mouth, too small to really be called a smile. "Thanks for listening, though."

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"Didn't think I might see you here." Emiya remarked.

Siegfried said nothing, passing Boudica another plate once all the stains were scrubbed off. She accepted it with a smile, looking past him to greet Emiya. "This is one place where Gaius Julius won't go and d'Eon tries not to interrupt our work."

"The other Sabers giving you a rough time?" Something in Emiya's voice softens and Siegfried can easily imagine the look on his face.

"No." He answers Emiya's question without looking up, tugging the long tail of his hair back over his shoulder. The itching between his shoulder blades eases. "There is work to be done. I do not mind helping."

Boudica laughs, lightly popping him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. The blow is hardly strong enough to hurt but it catches Siegfried by surprise nonetheless.

"He's a good fellow. Likes to be useful." Boudica tells Emiya cheerfully, ignoring the subtle shift in Siegfried's expression.

Emiya catches on to his embarrassment, however. Siegfried sees the Archer turn away and can't help but feel somewhat grateful for it.

"The help is appreciated." Emiya calls back to them, specifically Siegfried. "Just don't overdo it."

* * *

{Bond level 9}

The Grail shimmered as Da Vinci's machines processed its magical energies, boosting his own as what some might call a miracle wrapped itself under his skin. He felt stronger, the flow of blood in his veins quicker than before. His wings shifted, spreading out in a stretch before settling against his back once more.

It was more than pleasant. He had no words, really, to describe what this meant.

He was trusted. His master had faith enough in him to entrust a measure of the Grail's strength to him. He would have to find a way to repay that, someday. If not in service then in some other deed.

Looking up as the last of the Grail's light faded, Siegfried allowed himself a smile. His master looked pleased with the end result, absently folding her arms over her waist.

"Feeling better?" She asked.

"Much. Thank you, Master."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

The clothes picked out for him weren't exactly what he was expecting. But they fit well on him and looked, he hoped, acceptable for the event Nero had surprised them all by planning. A trip to the Golden Theater, pride of Nero's lifetime. He hadn't really anticipated being invited but it was undoubtedly pleasant to have been remembered enough to be considered as a guest.

Familiar footsteps approached and before he could properly turn around Siegfried felt something touch his back.The instant he felt it he froze, tensing. Unbidden the memory of his last moments came to mind. Of lying in the forest, dying next to the spring he'd crouched beside. A spear in his back - once belonging to the man he'd called his best friend.

And though he waited, expecting some treachery, it never came. Warm and slightly rough fingers gently skimmed his skin. They traced around the spot marked by the bay leaf, never quite trespassing the boundary of his weakness. It sent a faint tingle down his spine and he found himself straightening up, pulling in an unsteady breath as the touch followed the curve of his back.

How long had it been, truly, since anyone had last touched him there? Especially with any sort of gentleness?

"Does it hurt?" His master asked, her voice soft and full of curiosity. Her fingers hesitated, resting against the small of his back. Far from his weakest point, but still impossible to ignore.

"No." Siegfried answered quietly. He tried to bid his shoulders to relax. Beyond the novelty of being touched, he could find nothing wrong with the situation. She was his master. One who had earned his trust. He'd made the decision to trust her with his back and so far she had not given him a reason to regret it.

"You may continue if you wish to, Master." He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, his mouth quirking ruefully. "Though I am not sure what it is you may find interesting about the sight."

She smiled, gingerly skimming her nails over his back and side as she drew her hand up. "Don't be like that. You look great as you are."


	4. Bonds - Diarmuid

{Bond level 0}

Opening his eyes, he immediately wishes that he hadn’t. Electric lights burn his vision and he shuts them to lessen the sting. It seems that the one who summoned him favored machines over magic – though as he gets used to the feeling of having a body once more Diarmuid thinks he can sense a respectable amount of mana flowing around him. Some kind of fusion between the two, if he had to guess. He’s not entirely sure what to make of it but figures that it won’t matter in the long run. So long as he can serve faithfully, without the taint of betrayal attached to his name… that’s all he really wants.

Diarmuid opens his eyes once more and is relieved to see that the flashing of lights has died down. He fixates on the figure standing closest to the summoning array and offers a quirk of his mouth.

There are others in the room with him, but only one has Command Seals that he can sense. As his eyes adjust he can see his Master’s features better and his heart sinks a little in his chest.

A woman. The urge to cover his cheek is strong but that would look unprofessional before the one who summoned him. Still, he prays that she has not noticed it. That the magic attached to the damn spot hasn’t taken effect. Grainne’s face dances before his eyes and Diarmuid forces it away, attempting to regain some of his former confidence.

“Servant, Lancer.” He says by way of greeting, pulling his mouth into a smile.

* * *

{Bond level 1}

 

The sounds of the forest are at once familiar and pleasant as well as discomfiting. A part of his mind reaches for the last memory he has of such a place, settling on the events of his first death. His skin prickles and a bad taste fills his mouth. Diarmuid steals a glance at his master and the young lady Mashu, grateful that neither have seemed to notice his lapse into agitation. He tries to reign himself in. This is not the same place and he is not with the same people. And from the looks of it there are no wild boar in this forest – a fact that lifts his spirits.

“Diarmuid, do you feel comfortable scouting ahead with Arash?” His master asks, looking up at him. He avoids her eye as respectfully as he can, looking ahead and trying to pierce the gloom of the trees. The path widens out, that much he can see. Perhaps there’s a chance it will turn out into a road. Or at least someplace less claustrophobic.

Arash nods in his direction when he looks at the Archer, bow ready and waiting for whatever lies ahead. It’s easy to nod back, to brace one spear against his shoulder and put aside the dark thoughts which try and plague his mind. Looking at their master, he has to quash the impulse to search her face for any sign of her judgment being affected. It probably looked like distrust from where she’s standing, if not impudence.

“Yes, Master. We’ll be quick.” He assures. She nods, serious but not stoic and he feels the knot of tension under his ribs uncurl a little.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

 

The bastions of resistance against the United Roman Empire seem more like hovels for terrified citizens to cower in when they first arrive. But with the arrival of Nero Claudius everyone jumps to their feet. The fifth Emperor of Rome conducts herself well, reassuring her people that this menace will be pushed back and that peace will return. She does it with an air of command that almost reminds him of Fionn – and that is a road he is not yet ready to traverse just yet. So, putting his back to the radiant Emperor barking orders, he seeks out other ways of helping.

Mashu, whether because of her inexperience with the outside world or simply because she is not used to the casualties of war, looks pale when he happens across her. Her eyes drift towards the wounded every so often and he can clearly see her distress. It’s ugly, there’s no way around it, but he tries to distract her with questions about Chaldea. About their comrades, Da Vinci and Dr. Roman. About their master, whom Mashu seems to think very highly of.

Her face softens bit by bit the longer she talks. Every so often a soldier will cry out and she will go pale again, but Diarmuid waits patiently until she has recovered her composure to speak.

“You’re doing well.” He tells her. Because she is. She’s doing her best when everything has turned on its head and if that isn’t admirable Diarmuid isn’t sure what is.

* * *

{Bond level 3}

 

“I wonder if…” He begins, then cuts himself off. It’s too late though. His master is already looking at him, curiosity in her eyes.

“You wonder about what?” She asks, wrapping her arms around her legs. She doesn’t look cold – the fire is big enough to chase away the chill of the evening. Around them the camp still goes about its business. The sun might have gone down but war requires a lot of preparation. It may be later still by the time everyone has a chance to sleep.

Diarmuid shakes his head, wishing that he hadn’t spoken. The thoughts he’d been having weren’t going to do any good for their current situation. He could have wished that the knights he’d known in life stood beside him once more, but without a means to make that desire a reality it simply remained fanciful thinking. There was always the chance of meeting other Servants – ones like Spartacus, Lu Bou and Boudica. Ones that might be willing to lend their weapons to his master’s cause, even if it was for a short while.

“It’s nothing, Master.” Shifting, he turned his attention to the fire. “Just thinking aloud.”

* * *

{Bond level 4}

 

“Thanks for all your help.” Rem smiles, quick and faint, her uniform rumpled and stained with mud. “I’m sorry for the short notice.” She looks worse than he does since Chaldea’s default uniform is white but there’s something entertaining about seeing her looking close to a normal girl.

Diarmuid catches that thought and promptly buries it. Now’s not the time for such things.

“Nothing to apologize for.” He assures instead, silently reveling in the warmth of the sun on his skin. The French countryside is different from what he’s used to but it’s an immense relief to be free of Chaldea’s never-ending snowstorm. “I’m just happy to be of service.”

His master takes a quick inventory of everything they’ve gathered. It’s one of the larger supply runs they’ve had to make and even she looks uncertain if everything can be rayshifted back to base all at once. Fou, curious and perhaps a little hungry, noses at a ripe tomato. Diarmuid pats the creature’s head to distract it from the vegetables, feeling more relaxed than he has in a while. He can hear the communications channel start up, the odd fizzing sound now so commonplace he doesn’t consider it a threat. Dr. Roman is glad to see them in good condition.

One day, Diarmuid thinks, they might have to try and bring some of the child Servants to a place like this.

“Alright.” His master’s voice cuts through his musings, soft and firm. “Looks like we’re good to go. Diarmuid, you all set?”

Pushing himself up to stand, he nods as Fou winds a path between his legs. Their four legged friend is excited to go back home it seems, not that Diarmuid can really blame him. With restocked supplies there’s no telling what the chefs of Chaldea might churn out.

“Ready, Master.” He smiles, and does not think to look away when she smiles back.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

 

"Serving you has been surprisingly pleasant." He admits quietly. Diarmuid can almost convince himself that she hasn't heard when she doesn't look up. Her hands keep moving, mixing the batter that's slowly taking on a creamy hue.

"I'm glad." She chuckles, still not looking at him. "For a little while I thought you hated me." She taps the wooden spoon against the side of the bowl to shake off excess batter.

Diarmuid feels heat creep up the back of his neck. He watches her pour the batter into the pan she'd grabbed just as he'd walked in. He still doesn't know what she is making, only that it smells kind of nice. An apology sticks to the sides of his throat and it takes more effort than he thought to get it out.

"No need to apologize." Rem scrapes the sides of the bowl for the last bits of the batter, then turns to wash it out in the sink. It's better to go ahead and get it done before Emiya or someone else comes into the kitchen. And this way she doesn't forget to clean up.

"I -" Diarmuid let's the word hang in the air and trails off as her finger taps the end of his nose. He nearly goes cross eyed trying to keep her hand in view before she retracts it.

She's smiling. It looks almost fond. "You don't have to worry about it. I'm glad you feel a little more comfortable now."

* * *

{Bond level 6}

 

"Alright big guy." Rem huffed, draping one of Diarmuid's arms over her shoulders. She straightens up carefully, grimacing under his added weight. At least he's not wearing plate mail. She honestly doubts that she could have carried him away then.

He shifts, coming awake at the first wobbly step she manages to take. There's almost no color in his skin and the quick patch job she'd done to his side is already crimson. It's not really a good situation to be in but as long as they can make it back to camp she can see about fixing him up properly.

"What..?" He manages, blinking the fogginess out of his eyes. Everything hurts, at least as far as his limited senses can tell. There's a sharp throbbing in his side that feels a little too familiar. But unlike the last time he's being carried away from the scene rather than being left to die.

"Don't talk." Rem warns, steering them as best she can along the path. It's easier as the underbrush clears. Diarmuid sort of gets his feet under him but still has to lean against her as they walk. That's okay in her book. As long as he doesn't fall asleep or give up on her. They can still fix this.

Diarmuid mumbles something under his breath that she's too focused on the present issue to catch. He perks up a little when their camp eventually comes back into view and she can relate, even as Mashu approaches them like a whirlwind.

* * *

{Bond level 7}

 

"How you feeling?" She asks, not quite plopping down in the chair beside his bed. Diarmuid looks away, embarrassed if she had to guess. His room's about what she expected. Same layout as her own for the most part, just more barren. He doesn't really have anything to decorate with and she can't imagine him making much of an attempt. 

The whiteness of his bandages still brings up stirrings of old worry when she looks at them. But Diarmuid has more color in him now. He looks alert, if a little uncomfortable. She might wind up asking Dr. Roman if he could spare any painkillers. Whether or not they'd work on a Servant remains to be seen, but it's all she can think of.

"Better." Diarmuid says at last. He finally looks her way to offer a twitch of his mouth. "I'm in your debt, Master. And Miss Mashu's." His face darkens a little, eyes turning downcast.

"I apologize for what happened back there. I let my guard down."

He looked as though he wanted to say something else but was restraining himself. She waited, leaning forward in her seat to rest her elbows on her knees. He wouldn't meet her eye, didn't look like he wanted to, so she dropped the tiny present she'd picked for him by his hand. Diarmuid blinked, staring down at the cluster of flowers like he'd never seen any before.

"You're here now," she reminded him. "That's all that matters. I wasn't gonna leave you there like that. You're my friend."

"You sure you want to consider me a friend, Master?" Diarmuid frowned. He turned the flowers around in his hands, fidgeting even if he'd never admit it. "Wouldn't it be easier to see me as a Servant?"

She considered him for a moment, tucking her hair back behind her ear. It was getting too long. She'd have to cut it soon. Or find someone she really trusted with a pair of scissors.

"Maybe. But you're still a person, the way I see it. We just have a workplace arrangement. Kind of." Rem shrugged. "If that's pushing the boundary too much then we don't have to be friends. Colleagues, if that's easier."

"Friends." Diarmuid mused, twirling a flower between his fingers thoughtfully. "That sounds agreeable to me."

* * *

{Bond level 8}

 

"This is a little late to ask, but why'd you give me flowers?" Rolling his shoulders Diarmuid savored the feeling of unrestricted movement. It hadn't taken nearly as long to recover as it would have in his mortal life - a fact that he was very grateful for. Being bedridden had never suited him much.

His master barely paused. She scribbled something down on the papers Dr. Roman had pushed at her, slouching over the desk as she wrote. It was a bad habit of hers - one several of his fellow Servants tried to correct. Only a couple had made any progress but she was doing better.

"Guys deserve to get flowers too." She told him absently. He stared at the back of her head, the scratching of her pen fading into white noise.

"That simple huh?" He let out a breath, chuckling. It wasn't what he had expected, but he didn't get the sense that she was lying. All their conversations had been refreshingly candid thus far.

She leaned back in her seat, half of the form before her already done. Looking up at him Rem offered an amused smile. "You were looking like you wanted to beat yourself up about getting hurt. So I got someone to distract Da Vinci long enough to grab some flowers from the gardens. Thought you'd like them, since there's not much color around here otherwise."

"I appreciate it." Diarmuid admitted softly.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

 

"Who was it that taught you magic?" He asked idly, balancing one of his spears between his fingers. It had been on his mind for some time but there had never seemed to be a good moment to ask. Right now, between Singularities, felt close enough to the moment he'd been waiting for.

"My abuela." Rem answered as she slowly rubbed at her temples. He couldn't see her face but she sounded tired. "My grandmother, if that helps." She added after a beat of silence. "We weren't one of the big name families, but I guess you can sense that."

True, her magic was a little rough around the edges. He didn't really consider himself an expert on the subject though.

"Just curious." He confessed. "You don't act like a lot of the mages I've met before."

She made a sound like a laugh and lowered her hands, sitting up to meet his stare. Rather than offended, she looked amused.

"I wasn't the best at the family business but I was what Abuela had." Rem sat back, looking away from him. "I did my best and hoped it would pay off. Guess it did, since I'm still here."

He didn't ask what her family business might have been. It wasn't his place. But he'd still learned something new and that was nothing to turn his nose up about.

"You're a good Master." Diarmuid told her. She blinked, looking as though she doubted her ears had heard right. But then she smiled, relaxing from the tense ball she'd been in.

"Thanks. You're pretty good too."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

 

"No matter what happens, we keep moving forward." His master said quietly, back facing him. She almost seemed to be talking to herself, her attention far away from the present. He said nothing and kept a lookout for any signs of trouble nearby.

Things might not have gone as planned, but no one had died yet. They still had that on their side. Cold comfort perhaps, but it was something.

"Diarmuid."

He turned at the call of his name, meeting her gaze patiently. She still looked a little shaken up but there was no signs of tears on her face. For that, he was grateful. He wasn't sure what he might have done if she had started crying.

"Yes, Master?"

"We're going ahead. Will you tell Mashu to head up this way?"

He bowed his head, glad to have something to do. This Singularity had given them a taste of the newly risen stakes. It would probably only get harder from here. But they couldn't give up. Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went a more platonic route with this one. Felt more appropriate.


	5. Bonds - Cu Chulainn (Caster)

{Bond level 0}

"Well, well. Looks like you managed to summon me after all." Reaching out, Cu Chulainn set a warm, heavy hand on her head and ruffled her hair. She tried to duck, swatting at his arm in protest but he persisted, pulling her close. It was almost a hug. Almost.

"I'm just as surprised as you are." She told him, nudging him in the ribs. He looked good - less haggard than she remembered. Perhaps being freed of the Fuyuki Singularity had eliminated the stress that had lined his face before. "But it's good to see you. I'm glad you didn't disappear with that place."

He squeezed her shoulder, mouth quirking before he released her. "I am too. That wouldn't have been the best way to enjoy my freedom you know. But really," Cu Chulainn sighed, lifting the gnarled staff she recalled him carrying up onto his shoulder. "You couldn't summon me as a Lancer? I _hate_ being a Caster."

"Always next time." Rem joked, bumping his chest with her fist. "But you saved us back there by being a Caster. Maybe you need to appreciate being different once in a while."

"Pretty sure I don't." He countered flatly, rolling his eyes. It lasted for a second before he glanced her way, smiling faintly. "Why don't you show me around? It's nice to be someplace cool for once."

-

{Bond level 1}

"Who taught you how to use runes?" His master asked. She watched him poke a fragment of saint quartz and wrinkle his nose at the feeling of mana within. Da Vinci's workshop was quiet at the moment. Repairs on Sheba took priority over greeting the new faces, but from what he'd heard about the inventor it wouldn't be long before they encountered one another.

He debated not answering but previous experience only reassured him that questions would keep coming up until she got what she was looking for. It was a very human thing, that persistence, and he had a way of attracting determined Masters.

"My mentor." He said at last, flicking the saint quartz fragment away. It spun wildly, sending tiny beams of light all over the place. He watched it collide with another piece and sighed at the clinking sound it made.

Someone was going to poke their eye out with all those fragments floating around.

"Not something you want to talk about, hm?" She guessed, swinging her legs carefully. He couldn't blame her - just about every surface in the workshop was covered in things that looked breakable. Or delicate, at the very least.

"You got it." He smirked. "How about we take some of that quartz you earned and try to summon something fun?"

-

{Bond level 2}

The communicator fizzled before it activated, projecting a decent-sized image of Dr. Roman. His master didn't seem too surprised by the occurrence. Mashu was proving herself to be the responsible one, keeping guard even with no enemies currently in sight. He gave the washed out image of the doctor an appraising glance before shaking his head and looking away. Spellcraft like that just seemed so... tasteless.

"What's the current situation?" Unlike the unsteady beginning of their communicator's startup, Dr. Roman's voice emerged clearly.

"We have secured a campsite, doctor." Mashu gave him her attention for all of a second, her concentrated frown easing up a little. "The summoning circle has been completed. If we rest here, everyone should be ready to go by morning."

That seemed to appease Roman's worry. He started to say something else and Cu Chulainn tuned him out, tugging on the soft cloth of his hood so that it blocked the sun from getting in his eyes. It was a warm enough evening at least, though a fire wouldn't hurt. So long as someone kept watch once true darkness fell it would be easy to handle any threats that happened their way.

"-alright?"

He blinked, glancing back at the slightly fuzzy image of Roman and was surprised to see his master and Mashu looking at him as well. "Come again?"

"I asked if you were alright." Either that was a furrow between the good doctor's brows or Chaldea's projections were getting a little sloppy. "I know this is pretty sudden after you were just in another Singularity, but your experience is something we really need.'

Touching. He waved a hand, settling in for a long night. "Don't worry. I won't skip off and leave you all to the wolves. Really, what do you take me for?"

"That's not what I..." Roman protested, his voice gaining a higher pitch. A snicker rose from his right - his master from the sound of it. Even Mashu let out a tiny giggle as Roman floundered his way through an apology.

Cu Chulainn said nothing. With reactions like that, he'd have to needle Roman more often.

-

{Bond level 3}

Re-watching battle simulations wasn't the most engrossing thing to do but it gave him the chance to sit back and relax. Which, when he wasn't accompanying his master out onto the field, could be kinda nice. It also let him see just how his fellow Servants worked - which ones he might be able to get along with and ones he'd rather avoid. It went without saying, of course, that if he ever saw a particular red Archer that he would much rather have a spear in his hands than his stave.

So far though, no such luck. They'd gained two new Assassins and his master was diligent about trying to get everyone somewhat familiar with one another.

Resting his chin on his fist, he rewound the simulation footage. Once again a cluster of wyverns descended from a previously blue sky and Jekyll surprised them all by taking one out all on his own. It was amusing to watch. Especially after the Assassin stumbled upon being clapped on the back, nearly losing his glasses to the grass and dirt.

He didn't really _like_ working with Assassins. The class had a reputation for a reason. Still, if his master insisted on it he'd follow orders.

Losing interest, he skipped the remainder of the footage. Restlessness gnawed at him and made the tips of his fingers itch. Pushing himself up he stretched his arms out over his head with a sigh.

Why sit around _watch_ people fight when you could kill time by doing it yourself?

-

{Bond level 4}

"You finally show your face." Rem took advantage of Cu Chulainn's surprise to stand on tiptoe and ruffle his hair, grinning when he shied away with wide eyes. It was a cute look on him, she could privately admit. Made him look less guarded and smug.

"Hey now, what's all this about?" He ducked away from her second attempt at messing with his hair, haphazardly trying to smooth away the damage from her initial assault. "In case you haven't noticed I'm not a kid. You lose your sense, master?"

Rolling her eyes she let him put a few more feet of distance between them. In spite of being almost a head taller than her he was pretending to fold in on himself, one hand still hovering protectively over his hair.

"You look better without the hood. That's all I'm saying." She smiled, folding her arms. "Now get back here. We still have to work on your skills."

He frowned, looking for all the world like a reluctant puppy in that instant. But he straightened up with a sigh and joined her by the summoning circle again.

"It would still be better if I were anything but a Caster."

-

{Bond level 5}

The line twitched, causing the tip of his fishing rod to dip. He waited, eyeing the ripples in the water for any signs of a flicking tail. There was a barely discernible shadow moving under the water. It tugged at the line again and he slowly sat up. With a yank he pulled the line free of the water once it was certain that the fish wasn't able to swim away. Droplets of water sparkled as the fish came up flailing, showering the grass of the bank with moisture.

Catching the line before it could go too far Cu Chulainn allowed himself a smile. Not a bad catch, even if it wasn't his largest.

"Are you trying to become wise?" Diarmuid asked, quirking a brow at the salmon wriggling on the hook. The bucket at his feet was full of several fish already, waiting their turn to be gutted and cleaned.

"Not much use for that." Easing the hook free, Cu Chulainn tossed his catch into the bucket. "Wisdom only gets you so far, you know."

Diarmuid shrugged, crouching down to peer at their haul so far. He looked impressed. "You're good at this."

"Had the time to practice." He didn't shrug, considering the knot keeping the hook in place. It would last for a little while longer so long as he didn't reel in anything too big. Or get it stuck on a sunken log. Looking up, he caught Diarmuid's eye and smirked.

"How about inviting our master over? She might appreciate the lesson."

One of Diarmuid's brows rose and he answered Cu Chulainn's mischievous smirk with a skeptical look of his own. "You are not pushing our master into the lake."

"Oh come on."

-

{Bond level 6}

"Here, here." A hand closing around her wrist stopped her, gently tugging her back a step. She blinked, hazily realizing that the person who'd touched her was Cu Chulainn. He studied her face with a frown.

"You look tired, master." He lightly tugged on her arm again and she moved closer without thinking. "Want a nap?"

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes with her other hand. "Can't. I'm supposed to go and help with Vlad's ascension. He's waiting." And after that she'd have to report to Da Vinci with whatever materials they managed to harvest from the training session that would undoubtedly follow the Count's ascension. After that the list got blurry in her mind's eye but there was a sense of a _lot_ of somethings waiting to be done.

"He can wait." Cu Chulainn's voice was soft. He sounded much closer than before. Something light and soft touched her cheek and then she realized that she was on her side, head on his lap. She stared at the wall, uncertain exactly when he'd either pulled her down or she'd sat of her own free will. Whichever it was, she knew she wouldn't be getting up. Everything felt much too heavy.

"...thanks." She'd meant for it to sound more sincere but a yawn worked its way up her throat as she said it. Distantly, she thought she heard Cu Chulainn chuckle.

Warm fingers brushed her hair back, easing it away from her face. She closed her eyes, intending only to blink and dredge up the willpower to sit up. Cu Chulainn said nothing and kept repeating the same slow motion over and over until her breath evened out and she was deeply asleep. He shifted, lifting the hooded cloak from his shoulders to drape it over her so she wouldn't get cold.

Young Masters could be so stubborn. It was a real pain, honestly.

-

{Bond level 7}

"Runes?" He repeated, staring at her quizzically. She did not back down, a hand on her hip and a determined cast to her eyes. Still, he wanted to be sure he'd heard right. "You want to learn how to use runes?"

"It seems like it could help." She points out mildly. "My area of expertise is curses and their removal. Something that leans more towards the offensive might give us an edge." Her eyes lowered and she shifted her weight. "And I know you don't like to be pulled along every time something new comes up."

Cu Chulainn frowned. He looked away, drumming his fingers on his knee.

"It isn't really that easy, master. Runes can be... tricky. But if you're serious about it we can talk about it..." he paused, scratching his cheek. "Later. Yeah, we can talk about it later."

She pushed him, the contact light and friendly. "That's what you said last time. And the time before that, when I ask you what it was like to use runes in general."

"A pain, that's what." He sighed, brushing her hand away gently. "If you'd like to learn a protection spell or two then I wouldn't mind teaching you. Anything else... I'd rather you stick to what you know."

-

{Bond level 8}

"You're afraid of horses?" Cu Chulainn stared, mouth slowly curving up into a smile. "Really? More than the monsters you've been fighting all this time, you're afraid of _horses_?"

"Shut up." Rem eyed him suspiciously. The nearest of the horses nickered, tail swishing as it lowered its head to graze. Cu Chulainn gave it a light pat on the neck, amused.

He sensed a story behind this and he wanted to know what it was. Preferably if he could coax his master into coming closer.

"So what happened?" He asked, quirking a brow. "Afraid of their size?"

His master folded her arms across her chest, firmly abiding by her decision to stand several feet away from the enclosure. Behind her, he could make out some of the villagers heading down the road home. For them, he was sure, it had been a long day. Having someone around who could fight off the creatures that came with the night would probably help them sleep easier.

"I liked riding on them when I was little." Rem told him slowly, frowning. "I just don't anymore. That's all."

He considered her thoughtfully, swaying a little when the horse he stood beside bumped him gently.

"It threw you off, didn't it?" He guessed.

"I'm going to push you into a the river." Rem narrowed her eyes.

-

{Bond level 9}

"Well..." He trailed off, not quite knowing what else to say. He had opinions, certainly, but he was fairly sure that none would help with the current situation. The wind shifted direction and Cu Chulainn grimaced. Smoke wafted up from the ruined camp and he was glad for the distance that prevented him from smelling anything else.

Considering what their group had already seen in other Singularities, he was sure it wouldn't be pleasant on the nose.

"We can look for survivors at least," he offered mildly. "If you think any made it through the first wave."

Turning his head, he watched her consider his proposal. The resistance camp wasn't to the same scale as Fuyuki, thankfully, but it still wasn't nice to look at. Her eyes lingered on the posts of what had been tents. Truth be told the chance of regular civilians surviving an onslaught of Servants was very low. If they found anyone it would likely be just to bury them shortly after.

"We'll try." She said at last. "Anyone who's still alive might be able to tell us what really happened."

"Alright then." Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Time to do some digging.

-

{Bond level 10}

"How's it feel to stand at the end of the world?" Cu Chulainn asked softly. His voice echoed oddly when it shouldn't have. Too quiet and too loud, all at once.

She debated how to answer as she stared at the scene before them, vaguely aware of the movements of her other Servants nearby. Brushing aside the obvious, she wasn't entirely sure how to put the tight clump in her chest into words. It hurt. He must have known that because Cu Chulainn didn't press, just waited with his stave propped on one shoulder.

"Lonely." Rem muttered finally. "Bad in general, I guess."

"It can feel that way." He hummed. A weak, dusty breeze tugged at their clothes. It did nothing to alleviate the deadness in the air. "You want to give up?" Turning his head, Cu raised a brow expectantly.

She pried her eyes away from the wasteland ahead to look at him. Her mouth moved of its own accord, something wistful and resigned in the smile she gave him. "Nah. You?"

"And leave my dear master behind?" He clicked his tongue. "Perish the thought."


	6. Bonds - Emiya (Archer)

{Bond level 0}

Shuffling the craft essences into a pile she filed them away for later use. Not a bad haul, truth be told, but she'd been hoping for another Servant to round out their ranks. A dependable one, ideally, even though her current crew wasn't half bad. Most of them she could trust not to get into too much trouble. Not everyone was David, who liked to disappear off to only the Grail knew where and come back either suspiciously cheerful or dirt-covered and downtrodden.

The summon ticket Da Vinci had given her was an option, she guessed. There was no way of telling what might come out of the summoning circle, but it couldn't hurt to try. Right?

Withdrawing it from her pocket she offered it to the circle, letting go of the ticket before it burned away. The lights flickered, beginning to whirl faster and faster until a pillar of blinding light took shape. She squinted, turning her face away to avoid the worst of the glare. She thought a flicker of gold surfaced in the pillar's light, but it was too bright to look at directly. As it died down she looked again, staring at the man now occupying the circle.

"Archer." He said tersely, staring her down with a faint frown. "I have been summoned at your request."

"Welcome to Chaldea." She smiled, resting a hand on her hip. "It's good to have you. Got a name?"

If anything his frown deepened. Like he was debating whether or not to answer. She resolved not to take it personally if he decided not to. Some of her other Servants didn't like to give out their names on the first meeting either.

"Emiya." Folding his arms, he seemed to relax a little. "You can call me that, if you like."

"Alrighty then." She closed the distance between them and offered her hand. "Nice to meet you, Emiya."

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"How many Servants are currently here?" Emiya asked. When she looked she could see a frown on his face. He always seemed to be frowning, either in thought or what often came off as disapproval.

"Mine? Sixty-seven, I think." She looked back at the list of necessary goods Da Vinci needed them to grab. It wasn't much this time around. They should be fine with a small group, she thought, rather than going out full-force. "Chaldea has a few autonomous Servants. Like Da Vinci, if that helps."

Emiya waited for her to fold up the list and followed her when she headed for the Command Room. His footsteps were quiet. Occasionally his coat would rustle and she was learning that it was one of the few clues to his presence that he was willing to let slide.

"You're able to support them all?"

She shook her head, taking the next right. "Not all at once. Chaldea helps. I can manage to support four or five in the field until we come across a leyline but... any more than that and I don't know."

The door to the Command Room slid open, letting the bluish light spill out into the hall. Dr. Roman was already waiting by the rayshift console, looking up when they stepped in. He looked tired. She'd have to talk him into taking a nap when they got back, if Da Vinci didn't do it herself.

"Try not to overexert yourself, master." Emiya's expression didn't change when she looked up at him in surprise. "The consequences aren't pretty."

Dr. Roman's voice distracted her from replying, asking if they were ready. Emiya faced forward, not looking at her, and she filed away his words for another time.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"Is it projection magic that you're using?" She asks him softly one evening. Chaldea hummed around them, steady and sure. Outside, another blizzard was whipping their surroundings into a frenzy. He'd grown tired of watching it, of walking in on his fellow Servants doing the same.

So here he was, tossing one of his blades and catching it by the pommel, too restless to consider sleeping and oddly bored.

"Is that what you think, master?" Emiya caught the blade again, angling its black and gray length to catch the light. It looked solid to the naked eye. There was even a reflection of the walls and floor on the side of the blade. To him, however, the truth was obvious. Though it had weight and a cutting edge, the weapon remained a hollow thing.

He was curious if she could see it though.

"Feels close to it." She leaned back against the wall behind her, arms wrapped around her stomach. Her eyes lingered on the weapon in his hands for a second longer before she met his stare. Then she shrugged, loose and as close to being at ease as he's ever seen her. "I was just curious."

"You aren't entirely wrong." He conceded at last. Letting the blade dissolve into wisps of mana he sat back, shoulders squaring. "I'm better than I used to be."

"We all gotta start somewhere." She winked, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He's bemused by it for a second but tucks that response away. Every Master is different, just like the Heroic Spirits they summon.

He'll just have to get used to being informal again.

* * *

{Bond level 3}

He hated the creatures dredged up by the battle simulations. Not as much as some of the foes he'd faced in actual Singularities, or certain Servants - but enough to be noticeable. It was satisfying when they dissolved into dust and left his current group victorious. An itch on the back of his neck informed him that he was being watched. When he turned his head it was David who stared back curiously.

"You really don't like those other archers, do you?" David rubbed the back of his neck, pinching where the muscles were tense. "The ones who have bad taste in armor. Looks all gold, doesn't it?"

Emiya silently agreed, but didn't want to give the topic any credence. He shrugged instead, folding his arms as he waited for the rest of their group to catch up. Tallying the day's spoils would be a time consuming task but one couldn't really complain about it when those materials kept all their heads above water.

"They're annoying." He said simply. "Let them stay around too long and they cause nothing but trouble. Best to kill them quick and move on."

One of David's brows jumped up at that but he didn't look surprised. More like something had been confirmed, which was... potentially worrisome.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." Letting his hand drop to his side, David turned away to see if their backup had arrived yet. Emiya frowned, but held his tongue as their comrades finally came into sight.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

"What are you doing?" Emiya stared, blinking incredulously when his master slowly turned her head to look at him. Despite the late hour she had the stove on and a pot of something gently boiling away. On the counter he could see a paring knife and cutting board, slices of fruit neatly awaiting her attention.

Rem quirked a brow at him a she reached for the wooden spoon she'd laid aside. "Cooking. You're not the only one that knows how, silly."

"It's late." He pointed out. "Nearly midnight. Could you not sleep?"

She shrugged and did not seem to mind when he moved to join her by the stove. When he tried to look into the pot to see what she was cooking she shooed him away with the spoon. He did manage to catch a whiff of something sweet before stepping back.

"Jack had a nightmare so I stayed up with her for a little bit." She tapped the spoon gently to get rid of anything clinging to it. "Now I'm awake and most people are asleep. Felt a little hungry so I thought I'd steal the kitchen from you." Rem shot him an appraising glance, mouth twitching upwards. "Guess I wasn't quiet enough. What's got you awake?"

"I don't really need to sleep." Emiya pointed out, folding his arms as he watched her work. "I thought I might some work done before tomorrow and saw that the light was on."

She lowered the heat of the stove. "This is Chaldea, Em. The lights are _always_ on."

"Very funny." He sighed. Then, because his hands itched for something to do. "You need any help?"

"Grab me two bowls from the cabinet?" She asked, stirring whatever was in the pot again. "I made too much, so we can split it if you like. Unless," she her voice softened teasingly, "you decide that since you don't _have_ to eat you don't _want_ to."

He pretended not to hear that, taking down two bowls from the cabinet and opening a drawer to look for utensils. It wasn't something he usually did, indulging in a meal so late, but perhaps a little deviation wouldn't hurt.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

"You remind me of someone I knew once," Emiya mused. "Especially when you are being stubborn."

"Somebody's got to give you a little hell." Rem replied. She didn't look up from what she was doing, sorting ascension materials into little groups by type and rank. She could feel his eyes digging into the back of her head but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of addressing it.

"Besides," she continued, sitting up once she'd completed her task. "It was by being stubborn we managed to get enough of these," she tapped one of the archer's pieces on the desk for emphasis, "to improve your skills."

Emiya felt the urge to sigh rise within his chest. He nearly gave into it, but that seemed like conceding defeat. "You nearly gave Raikou and Dr. Roman a heart attack when you got back." He pointed out. "Kintoki wasn't that happy either."

"Em, c'mere." She crooked a finger at him, beckoning him closer when he didn't lean down far enough. Once he was within range she tugged on his collar, dropping a light peck on his cheek.

Heat invaded his face quicker than he could suppress it, throat going dry as he processed what just happened.

"Now shut up and cheer up." Rem patted his shoulder affectionately. "You've got an ascension to look forward to and I'm okay. All's right with the world."

"You're impossible." Emiya muttered, straightening up.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

Of all the things Emiya had thought to expect from being one of the Servants of Chaldea, a beach trip wasn't one of them. He hadn't believed David when the other Archer had excitedly informed him of their master's plans. Between trying to save the world, keeping their base of operations stocked with goods and strengthening their skills; it did not seem like the appropriate time for such an indulgence.

And yet now that he was here, helping Karna set up a firepit and drinking in the sunlight for what felt like the first time in ages, Emiya was grateful. part of him suspected that it might be the same for his fellow Servants. A few of them chased each other up and down the beach while others reclined or played cards under the protection of umbrellas. Even Dr. Roman dropped by, just long enough to get himself dunked in the ocean by Nero.

"This is a pleasant diversion." Karna suddenly spoke, drawing Emiya's attention back to the present. Karna's gaze was focused elsewhere - following the slowly increasing line of Servants headed for the water.

It could have been a trick of the light, but Emiya was fairly certain that Mordred had gotten hold of a surfboard and was searching for waves to tame. Chevalier d'Eon waved as Marie surfaced in the shallows, shortly accompanied by a sputtering Amadeus. Further up the beach some of the Riders had set up a volleyball net.

"It is, isn't it?" Emiya mused.

Karna's head turned and searched his face with those almost painfully keen eyes of his. Whatever he saw there appeared to satisfy him because in the next second a faint smile tugged at Karna's mouth.

"You do not need to keep yourself so attached to the past, Archer. There is no sin in finding a reason to smile."

He didn't know what to say to that.

* * *

{Bond level 7}

Emiya gave off heat like a furnace, she'd found. It was nice, given that Chaldea usually kept a pretty mild temperature all day and night. He did have a habit of latching onto something when he slept. In this case, it just so happened to be her. Normally she wouldn't mind. Some people got a little clingy in their sleep, no big deal. But this was Emiya, one of the Moms of Chaldea, and she wanted to snap a picture of his sleeping face for evidence.

It was just unfair that he was the bigger spoon at the moment and warm enough that she didn't really feel like moving right then.

She yawned, burrowing a little deeper under the covers so that the air conditioning wouldn't make her face cold and shut her eyes. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could wake up before Emiya and secure her blackmail material.

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"Master. I'm saying this for your own sake. Delete that photo from your phone."

She looked up at him with obvious amusement, making a show of going through the rest of her pictures. Partly to make him wonder if she had other embarrassing shots of him. In truth she was just enjoying his reaction, how his eyes would drop to the phone in her hand and then go back up to her face.

"Why would I do that?" She swiped her thumb to the right, unable to help a grin as her favorite picture of Asterios and Euryale came up. "That would defeat the purpose of collecting it in the first place."

Emiya was usually a patient man. One of _the_ most patient of her Servants. But somehow the idea that someone else might see her little snapshot of him with a face full of icing sugar and an exploded cake was making cracks in his stoic facade. He glanced at her phone again. Probably debating whether or not to try snatching it out of her hand. _Technically_ he was faster than her. He could manage it if she wasn't careful.

"Master. I will not warn you again." He did a good job of keeping a straight face as he said it. 

"Tell you what." Rem sat up, gently nudging Fou off her legs. He protested but hopped down from the bed, heading for the door. She wished she could follow him, but if she tried to book it Emiya would _definitely_ catch her. "You let me keep the photo and I'll tell you about the time I caught Shakespeare getting harassed by squirrels."

Emiya didn't look like he believed her. Or that he was interested in someone else's blackmail.

_Well damn._

"The phone, master." He held out his hand, clearly done with negotiation.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

He didn't know when his master had left it, but Emiya woke up to a covered plate and a cup of tea waiting for him. Rem herself was nowhere in sight. His right side still ached but it no longer felt like Heracles had tried to beat him to a pulp. The clock above the bed informed him that it was just past one in the afternoon. He wasn't used to sleeping so long. Not since his first life, if that.

Sitting up made a twinge pull at his chest, but he managed it. Lifting the thick napkin that covered the plate he peered under it, surprised to see a whole meal. Chicken, rice, something else mixed it. It smelled savory and as soon as he registered that he felt his mouth water a little. She'd even included utensils.

Servants didn't really have to eat, of course. But the thought was touching and, if he were honest, it was nice to be treated to a meal for once.

* * *

{Bond level 10}

"Hey Em, down here."

He turned, not prepared at all for the hand that took him by the collar and pulled him down to her level. She planted a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, dropped something cool and hard into his hand and let him go with a smile. He stayed frozen for a second, processing what had just happened. In his hand a handmade charm of a sort, meant to be carried in a pocket or tied around the wrist.

"Something for you to smile about sometime." She told him, bumping his chin lightly with her fist.


	7. Arjuna - Sleep

She finds Arjuna asleep on one of the couches in what had once been a rec room. The book he'd been reading dangles from his fingertips, ready to fall. His breathing is slow and even, wavy black hair a sleep-tousled mess. From the pristine condition if his clothes _(always crisp white and pale azure, sometimes a glimpse of soft lavender)_ she doesn't think he's just returned from a battle.

Which probably means he's found some other way of exhausting himself past reason; the Arjuna she knew would scoff disgustedly at the thought of falling asleep in public. Let alone half curled up like a cat.

But he looks peaceful and that's a plus she hadn't realized she'd been looking for. 

So his pride can take a hit. She whips out her phone, takes a picture of his snoozing face _(for posterity's sake, not blackmail, honest)_ and carefully trundles off to get him a blanket.

Chaldea gets cold, after all.

* * *

Arjuna shifted, careful not to accidentally crush his master's hair beneath his arm. He tried not to think about the arm wrapped around his waist or the gradual rise of mana in his circuits. It wasn't _unpleasant_ but -

Well, apparently his master found him to be prime hugging material. She had yet to release him. In fact, now that he looked, she had a tiny smile on her face. She looked utterly at ease with the situation, nestled close to him as though they were lovers.

"I can hear you thinking." She mumbled, surprising him. He'd begun to think she had fallen asleep.

_Oh._ He felt himself stiffen. She could read him so well already - he would need to be careful in the future. Very careful. It would not do to let her see that other side of him.

"Forgive me." Arjuna heard himself say, the movement of his lips curiously foreign as he spoke. "Would you prefer I go, Master? My mind... It is prone to chasing itself in circles. I do apologize."

"I do the same thing. Everybody does." Her arm tightened around him. "It's okay."

He said nothing. For once he didn't know what to say. The image of an Ideal Hero faltered in his mind and he frowned.

"You're good enough, Arjuna." She mumbled into his collarbone. He felt himself swallow, voiceless for an entirely different reason now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This can be read as a continuation of the first chapter or a 'behind the scenes' peek if you'd like.


	8. Karna - Fever

"Karna." His master's voice brings him to a halt, one of his hands pausing mid-reach for the blanket covering her head. He'd been concerned, admittedly, that she would not be able to breathe and had meant to nudge the blanket down a bit.

Now he waited, certain that she was aware of his presence. The blanket moved and he was greeted by the sight if two bleary eyes peering at him in the low light of her room. How much she could see Karna wasn't sure, but he could feel the feverish heat rising from her body even without touching her.

"Yes Master?"

She blinked, rubbing at one eye as if to clear her vision. Her other hand emerged from under her blanket to blindly grope for him and after a second's hesitation he linked their hands. She relaxed, squeezing his hand lightly.

"C'mere. 'M cold."

"You are feverish, Master." He corrected mildly. Still, he sat beside her. It was the right thing to do, he thought. "Your temperature is -"

Her free hand bopped his shoulder, glancing off the soft black material that covered his body. He barely felt it. She had no real strength in her body at the moment.

"Cold." She repeated. Then, like some kind of curious caterpillar she tried to curl up in his lap; blanket and bed sheet twisting all around her as she moved.

Karna blinked. Then, as gently as he knew how, eased her back up to where she had been laying. She protested, hardly more than a weak grumble, and he slid under the blanket to join her once his armor dissolved. Free of spikes, he didn't catch on anything or poke holes into the bed. He raised an arm, softening his expression into what he hoped was something welcoming, and allowed himself a smile when his master burrowed close.

Perhaps she was cold after all. Her shivering was concerning, even with his presence to provide relief.

Well, that settled it. He would stay until the worst passed. Longer, if needs be.


	9. Bonds - Rama

{Bond level 0}

He'd expected some kind of welcome when he'd been summoned. Maybe not shouts of joy or for his so called Master to prostrate themselves before him, though that would have been appropriate. Rama stared at the woman who'd called him down from the Throne of Heroes and tried to recall if he had seen her face before.

Then he was ducking as her hand neared his head, a scowl etching itself across his features.

"Don't pat me on the head like a child! It's very rude!"

She drew her hand back, one corner of her mouth slowly rising. "Sorry. You looked pretty disappointed there for a second. I thought I might have to cheer you up."

Rama narrowed his eyes, ready to backtrack again if necessary. He didn't _mind_ affection - it just had a certain place and time. And he _wasn't_ a child, no matter what his current body looked like. He was a _king_. To be treated so was a slight he couldn't ignore.

...well, except maybe this _once_. It would be poor kingmanship of him to expect someone he just met to act according to the standards he wad used to.

"Rama, right?" She asked, still half smiling. "From the Ramayana?"

"Yes." He felt his guard lower just a little. "So you do know of me."

She nodded, one hand finding a perch on her hip. "We recently ran into a demon problem. Would you be willing to lend us a hand?"

Rama straightened up with faintly widened eyes. His heart fluttered - the question of _is it Ravana?_ burning on his tongue.

Well, he might be stuck as a Servant and still without Sita at his side but demons were demons and he knew how to handle those.

"Lead the way, Master."

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"So this place is all that's left, huh..." Rama trailed off. The halls of Chaldea were stifling in their silence. He missed the sound of wind in the trees. Of animals and people talking. Despite his knowledge of the systems that kept Chaldea running he couldn't help but miss the heat of his homeland too.

"We're doing our best." Mashu replied softly, looking down at her feet as if she were apologizing. Which was ridiculous, really, because she was not responsible for the current state of affairs. She fidgeted with her sleeve, looking up at him with the eye not covered by her hair. "I'm sorry that it's not much Your Majesty, but - "

He hadn't meant to sound ungrateful. Though, looking back, he supposed his words could have been interpreted that way. He'd have to do better in the future, he resolved.

"No, no - there is no need for you to apologize. And please, just call me Rama." He smiled, folding his arms loosely over his chest. "I understand that it is difficult to save one person, let alone the whole of humanity. You are doing all that you can. That is enough."

Mashu's eye widened, pink rising to her cheeks. She could be so shy and quiet that he sometimes forgot she was there.

Lakshmana would have liked her, Rama couldn't help but think fondly.

"Why don't you show me around?" Rama asked, unfolding his arms as excitement bubbled within his chest. "I would like to get to know this place."

"I-I..." Mashu wrung her hands, swallowing. Then she quickly lowered them, as if realizing what she had been doing. "O-of course, Y- Rama. It would be an honor."

He smiled. "The honor is mine."

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"Is it true that you watched your animal companions make a bridge to help you save Sita?" Rem asked mildly. Rama looked up, brows furrowed and expression confused.

"What? No, I didn't just watch - we all built the bridge together." He smiled as the memories surfaced, uncrossing his legs and shifting to find a more comfortable seat. The chairs of the cafeteria weren't as bad as they could have been, Rem had definitely sat in worse, but they weren't exactly kind to people of shorter stature.

Rama shook his head. "Where did you get the idea I'd sit back and watch someone else do all the work? Do I really come off as so arrogant?"

She shook her head and carefully split the sweet bread she'd purchased into halves, offering some to him as an apology. Rama took it with surprised delight, his whole face lighting up. It was cute. One second he was composed and the next he looked like he'd been offered an early birthday present.

"Not really." She answered after swallowing a bite of her snack. "Only when you're dealing with people you don't like. Tyrants, right?"

Some of the boyish joy left Rama's face and his eyes hardened. "I do not mean to be arrogant, but I cannot stand those who think of people as things to be used and thrown away."

"I gotcha." Tearing off another piece of bread she popped it into her mouth, savoring the taste of cinnamon and brown sugar. "The version I read - of the Ramayana - just made it seem like you were chilling out while your friends moved the rocks. Except for the ones that were floating..? 'Cause they had your name written on them, or something."

Pausing in the middle of discretely licking his fingers, Rama laughed. It echoed in the empty cafeteria, bright like the sunlight Chaldea only rarely got. In that moment the room felt a little warmer.

He must have been an interesting king, she figured.

"I see, I see. I guess the story would be muddled after so long." Finishing the last of his snack Rama smiled. "Some of the rocks _did_ float, it's true. Anything that bore my name rose to assist us as we were constructing the bridge. We all took turns organizing the stones and finding where to place them. I'm grateful for their help, even now."

His smile softened at the edges, as it always did whenever the topic of his legend came up. So far Rama was one of the most open about himself. The only parts he didn't like talking about was Tara's curse and Sita's exile. Rem tried not to ask about those often.

"If we'd had the time," Rama continued softly, "I would have done more than simply give them my thanks. A feast perhaps - Hanuman enjoyed those. But we had to hurry and..." He trailed off, the look in his eyes far away.

"There's always next time." Rem offered, hoping to cheer him up a little.

It seemed to work. Some of the sadness disappeared at least.

"Yes." Rama hummed. "I suppose there is."

* * *

{Bond level 3}

"That man..." Rama paused, head turned away from the Command Room's door. Rem came to a stop and twisted, trying to see who Rama was talking about. At first she only saw Edison and Fergus. Then Edison walked away and she saw Karna leaning back against the wall, arms folded.

"Is that Savitra, Master?" Rama asked hopefully. "He has eyes that could pierce through anything, I'd wager."

She blinked, cocking her head to look at him. "You mean Karna? He can be intimidating, if that's what you mean."

Rama tore his gaze away from them to look at her, clearly perplexed. "You remember him for _that_ awful name?" He frowned, his eyes turning thoughtful. "Well I suppose it can't be helped... that tale did like to linger over that part, after all."

"What?" She asked, frowning as well. Rama didn't seem to hear her, too focused on puzzling something out in his head until he straightened up. His smile was sudden and excited, like he'd forgotten whatever had bothered him.

"May I challenge him to an archery contest, Master? It would be interesting, to say the least!"

Karna was looking their way now, his face blank and unreadable as it often was. He didn't seem like he was listening in, but Rama's voice carried and he wasn't particularly focused on being subtle at the moment. Rem tried to imagine what might happen if she said yes and just how mad Dr. Roman and Da Vinci would be if things got out of hand.

"Uh..." she chewed on her lip, torn between Rama's eagerness and Karna's silent waiting. "Maybe we can work something out later. In a training simulation - cause I don't think Chaldea would last if the two of you went all-out."

Rama beamed nonetheless. "It shall be great fun! Now please excuse me -" He made a beeline for Karna, heels of his boots clicking soundly on Chaldea's pristine floors.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

It was an amusing sight to watch if she wanted to be honest. Sports weren't something they got to indulge in very often, even though Chaldea had its own training rooms and necessary equipment to help its inhabitants stay in shape. But here, in a simulation of Rome's grand Colosseum, there was plenty of space for those who were interested to let loose and have fun.

Hopefully not _too much_ fun. They didn't need to wind up permanently stuck in the simulation, after all. She'd forbidden the use of Noble Phantasms just in case.

Rama had claimed a spot in the race, intense and focused as Nightingale raised her gun to fire the opening shot. At the thunderous crack everyone took off - Jack in the lead with Alexander, Astolfo and Rama hot on her heels. Clouds of dust kicked up in their wake and Rem tried not to flinch as people started yelling encouragement.

Next up would be the chariot race, as insisted on by Ozymandias. She wasn't sure how they were going to work that one out - especially if Servants of _other_ classes decided they wanted to participate.

What exactly Ozy would be riding in she had no idea. He always seemed to be pretty okay with keeping both feet solidly on the ground.

But that was for later. Right now she couldn't help but laugh as Jack deliberately launched herself ahead, putting more distance between her and the other competitors. Astolfo cried foul, waving his arms over his head as his braid bounced wildly behind him. Rama and Alexander picked up the pace, jostling each other for second place and to have a better chance of beating Jack.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

Considering the care that Rama showed towards his possessions, it was always surprising just how much he neglected his hair. Well... not neglected so much as forgot to brush it now and then. He did wash it, that much she knew, because he often took a shower at the same time as Robin Hood, Billy and some of her lancers. The communal bath was one thing - she'd borne witness to some of the splash fights people could get into, but if he was alone and actually focused on bathing then he did pretty well at keeping up with everything.

Except getting all the tangles out of his hair.

"Rama." She knocked on his door, waiting to hear him move around inside. It was only a second and then the door slid open, giving her the chance to see his surprised face.

"Something wrong, Master?" He blinked, looking her up and down like he expected some kind of injury. He'd tossed the upper layers of his usual clothes somewhere, along with the skirt of sorts that usually hung around his hips. He looked smaller without it, but she shook the impression off.

Rama was Rama and he could probably punt an enemy into orbit even if he was partially undressed.

"Let me in. I've got something for you." She held up the comb and brush she'd brought from her own room, smiling at his confusion. "Come on."

"I take care of my own hair, Master." He stepped back to allow her entry nonetheless, watching her look around with curious eyes. "This is not something you need to attend to."

His room was clean, she was pleased to see. His sword leaned within an arm's reach of the bed, orange and gold blade brilliant even in the current dim lighting. Maybe Rama had been about to sleep when she'd come around. Or he'd planned on meditating - something he, Karna and Arjuna still took some pleasure in doing. Her eyes glanced over a spot in the corner that was covered in flowers - likely picked while they were out training, before looking away.

Some things were too personal to directly look upon.

"You run your hands through it in the morning and call it a day." She teased, facing him with a quirked brow. "Don't think I haven't seen you walking around with a bird's nest in that mane you call hair."

Rama's hands rose, defensively patting down his hair. He narrowed his eyes, frowning as he looked away. "It is _not_ a bird's nest. You may not treat me so, even if you are my Master."

"Alright." She shrugged. "Let me give it a quick brush and I'll be on my way. We can call it a mana exchange if you want, since I can send you some through this instead of skinship." She raised the comb for emphasis, giving it a little shake.

A spark of reluctant interest surfaced in Rama's eyes. "You can do that? I've never heard of such a thing." He seemed to forget his irritation bit by bit, relaxing as he crossed the room to sit at his desk. She followed, helped him fan his hair out so that it wouldn't be crushed between him and the back of his chair.

"It's technically skinship." Rem explained, handing him the brush so he could fidget with it if he wanted. She measured out a section of hair, amused by its length. "I still have to touch you after all. But the mana goes through my hands and the comb instead. It'll be slower cause it has to travel along your hair, but you'll be able to soak it up like normal."

"You make me sound like a sponge." Rama mused. He lightly ran his fingers over the bristles of the brush, careful not to bend any. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

Satisfied that she'd parted his hair enough Rem began to run the comb through the ends of the section she'd chosen. "My abuela used to do this when I wouldn't go to sleep. I didn't catch on to it for years, but it always worked."

Rama made a thoughtful sound. He might have been smiling. "Sita used to brush my hair. Even if it wasn't a _bird's nest_."

She rolled her eyes, focusing on drawing her mana up through her body and into her hands. It came in a slow trickle, leaving her bit by bit and gradually settling under Rama's skin. He kept himself reasonably still as she worked, only moving to collect what had been untangled and smoothed down so she could move on to the next section of hair.

"Feel any better?" Rem asked after she'd worked through most of his hair. It looked less wild now, to a point. It was thicker than her own though and sometimes she misjudged how stubborn it could be.

"Yes." Rama hummed, sounding content. "It is actually quite pleasant. Thank you for thinking of this, Master."

She let his hair over his shoulder, moving on to another spot. "I figured you might be more comfortable with something like this. Since..." The word trailed off into silence that was only broken by the sound of the comb. She didn't have any eloquent words for what she wanted to say. It was obvious to anyone who knew Rama for even a little bit that he only thought of one woman.

"I appreciate your consideration, Master." Rama said softly. "Truly, I do."

* * *

{Bond level 6}

"Arjun." Rama nudged at the bundle of blankets that was his countryman, voice pitched just above a whisper. The lights within Arjuna's room were dark, only the faint display of the clock piercing the gloom. When Arjuna did not respond Rama prodded at him once more. "Arjuna, wake up."

Finally, he stirred. Arjuna pushed back the blankets enough to peer up at Rama, blinking away the sleep clinging to his eyes. Confusion settled in his expression, chasing whatever slight irritation might have been present. "Rama? Is something the matter?"

"Get up." Rama urged, smiling. "We are going to make breakfast for Master."

Arjuna reached up, rubbing at his eyes as he slowly collected himself. Sitting up he swung his legs over the side of the bed and Rama stepped back so that he wouldn't get kicked. Arjuna paused when he saw the time, turning to look up at Rama with the faintest of frowns.

"She will not be awake for another hour at least." He said quietly.

"I am aware." Rama set his hands on his hips, beaming now. "But we shall have to work quickly so that we do not lose this opportunity. Now come on - get up!" He clapped Arjuna on the shoulder fondly, already turning to leave so that his fellow could get dressed in peace.

Cloth rustled as Arjuna stood, a faint murmur leaving his lips that was too low for Rama to hear. But he did as he was told, smoothing his hair back into its proper place and dressing in record time. Rama looked him over once when Arjuna emerged from his room, an approving noise rising up from his throat.

"Good. Now we can get to work!" He set off at a brisk pace towards the kitchen, smiling as Arjuna managed to keep pace even if he'd just been asleep mere moments ago. When his sort-of nephew questioned this decision he only replied with, "We must take care of our Master, as she has done for us. A King looks after his vassals, should he not?"

That seemed to do the trick. Arjuna followed him silently, no longer looking befuddled. Once they entered the kitchen, however, he froze and Rama only had to glance towards one of the long preparation tables to see Karna standing there with his hands already covered in flour. Karna paused long enough to glance up from his work, nothing in his appearance suggesting that he'd ever slept or been disturbed from sleeping. Then he was back at it, rolling the dough into a ball and carefully working it to get the air out.

Rama turned to Arjuna with a smile but his eyes were stern. "We are here to work together, Arjun. I will not order it, unless you force me to do so. This is for our Master, whom we all owe. Put aside your grievances for now, yes?"

Arjuna's eyes had not left Karna, though he slowly relaxed once Rama finished speaking. Or he made a good show of it, at least. "Very well. What shall I do, if you have some idea in mind?"

 _Excellent_ , Rama thought and did not hesitate in leading Arjuna towards the pantry.

The kitchen was in a bit of a mess by the time they finished. It had evolved into a sort of competition at some point and now the three of them were stuck observing their Master's reaction as she stood in the doorway. Rem looked between them, her hair a thick mess that freely spilled around her head and folded her arms. What she could smell from the food was wonderful, admittedly. It probably tasted delicious to boot.

But it was way too much for a single person and Emiya was going to _lose it_ when he saw what they'd done.

"Let's dig in before we get run out." She offered, not even bothering to suppress a knowing smirk. Arjuna had the grace to look _somewhat_ apologetic. Rama looked more pleased and a little bashful than anything else. Karna... well, aside from the fruit he was nibbling on he just looked like Karna. "What do you say?"

"Sounds good to me." Rama smiled, proud and bright. _Way_ too bright for so early in the morning.

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"Rama." His Master's shoes entered his field of vision and he blinked, looking up curiously. She had a smile on her face that bordered on secretive and a little proud. It reminded him of pleasant memories with Lakshmana in their boyhood, sharing small adventures and mischief amongst themselves.

"Yes Master?" He asked, sitting up to better pay attention. If it was time to rayshift then he was prepared, although he hadn't heard of anything new from Dr. Roman.

She offered him a cluster of red and gold feathers, each of them nearly as long as her forearm. He stared at them, amazed by their warmth once he carefully took them from her hands. Phoenix feathers, he recalled now. Eight of them to be exact. Each one looked like a tongue of flame ready to twist and dance if he were to let them try.

Sadly, he wasn't at the appropriate level to utilize them yet - though he appreciated the gesture.

"They are beautiful, Master." He said at last, smiling at her. "I'm certain Savitra will be pleased when he sees them. Or Arjun, if they are meant for him."

"They're for you." She corrected, amusement clear in her eyes. "So are these." Lifting her hand, a clear bag with something dark purple inside came into view. Mana poured from it, pure and unrestrained - far too much to ever be produced by any mortal. Rama felt his chest flutter in response, the tickle of an old and familiar memory rising to the surface.

He stood slowly, careful not to drop any of the feathers drop to the ground. "Those are..."

"For you." Giving the bag a tiny shake, his Master finally smiled. "Let's get you powered up then, what do you say?"

"Yes. Yes!" Rama laughed, feeling more elated than he had in a long time. He would be a little closer to his proper self now. That thought alone was joyous, almost more than he could stand.

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"And that's the nature of your curse? You and Sita can never occupy the same space?" Rem studied him thoughtfully, bouncing her leg unconsciously.

"That's the gist of it." Rama conceded. His chest tightened as he forced the words out, as it always did when he recalled what separated him from Sita. "Whenever I am summoned as a Servant, there is a chance that Sita might be called as well - as 'Rama'. In that way we are one and the same, two halves of a whole. But as you saw in America, we cannot be together. One of us will vanish before long."

"Perhaps it was because I lingered so close to death that Sita was allowed to stay." Rama added, almost to himself. "But then Sita gave up her life for my sake. The curse remained fulfilled either way."

Rem said nothing, the look in her eyes far away. She did reach out and cover his arm with her hand, lightly squeezing for just a second. Rama swallowed, letting out a sigh as he patted her hand carefully.

"It is the reality of things." He shrugged ruefully. "I live for the chance to see Sita again. To talk to her. I still hold onto the hope that by winning the Holy Grail I might be able to wish for such a meeting."

"Is it just for this version of you and Sita?" Rem studied him, expression closed off. When he tilted his head she added, "Does the curse just apply to the version of you and Sita that's a Heroic Spirit, or is it for every incarnation you have?"

Rama shook his head. "It will persist for all eternity unless the both of us ascend and take back the places we had as Vishnu and his consort. Until then, we cannot stand side-by-side... unless we choose to renounce our love, perhaps."

"Don't see that happening." Rem smiled but it was sad. Maybe just a little bit knowing.

"Of course not." Rama scowled. "I will always love Sita, with all my heart. No amount of time could possibly change that."

Sitting back, Rem folded her arms across her lap; her face and the air around her pensive once again. She looked past him, off towards something he could not see. "Does it frighten you at all, what you'd do to see her again? Because of how much you love her?"

"It's not..." Rama hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "It is not _fear_ , precisely. I know my limits and what I alone can accomplish. I fear losing Sita again, yes, even though I know our curse will do its best to keep us apart. I fear dying before I get to see her again. But if I had to face Ravana and all his demons again just to do it, I cannot say it would require much thought."

He chuckled. "No, it would not require much thought at all. Perhaps that is what you mean, to be so sure that it is frightening?"

"Maybe." She shrugged, holding herself. "I can't say I know that feeling but it seems like it ought to be terrifying. To love someone so much you don't care what happens as long as you get to see them again."

"Love is what makes me strong, even if it does affect my judgment." Rama slowly smiled, voice gentle. Surprisingly so. "All that I am comes from love, like I told you in the American Singularity. Because I love Sita, my brother Lakshmana, because I love _you_ , Master," he smiled wider, the expression itself radiant as the sunrise, "I have the strength to keep going no matter what I face. Even if it were to break my every bone, to render my limbs useless and my arsenal of weapons broken - I would not stop until those I loved were safe and sound."

"That's what's terrifying." She murmured, more to herself than to him. But for him she smiled, just a little, and reached out to push his shoulder lightly. "But thanks. I'll do my best to keep up with you for as long as I can."

Rama huffed, allowing himself the smallest roll of his eyes. "It would be better if you stayed behind me, Master. You may be taller, but I am the better warrior."

* * *

{Bond level 9}

There were times, once few and far between and limited to when they were desperate, when everything about Rama would shift and it was like an entirely different facet of him came to the surface. When it happened in battle he seemed to move quicker, strike harder than before - the light of his Noble Phantasm too bright to look at and too great to look away from. In downtime, usually when he was surrounded by those he got along with, Rama seemed to shine.

Not the odd glow that came from the electric lights bouncing off his armor. It was an internal thing - a radiance that shone through his entire being to brighten everything around him. In those moments he almost seemed like someone else. Every glance could almost be called fond, every word spoken as if he were addressing the dearest of friends.

She wasn't sure if he was aware of it. Some of her Servants seemed to be - their reactions mixed and responses varied. If Rama _was_ aware of it, he didn't show it. But it was happening more and more often and Rem couldn't be sure if it was a good thing or not.

Still, it was hard not to go along with it and be swept up in Rama's charisma. It could be the littlest of things but just being around him could make it feel like a true adventure.

It made the grind for materials in training simulations a little easier, at least. Time seemed to fly by without any consideration for stopping, leaving them all tired and a little sore but far from empty handed. She'd even been lucky enough to rake in enough materials to help a couple Servants towards their next ascension - and that seemed like a miracle in and of itself.

"Don't worry." Rama's voice surprised her, as did the arm he hooked around her own as she walked. They fell into step, seizing a rare moment to enjoy the quiet before the next round of a simulation. "I promise not to disappear and leave you behind."

"That's good to know." She teased, pushing him a little with her elbow. He adjusted his balance easily, supporting her and gently pushing back.

If the look in his eyes was a little strange - distant but fond and far, far too knowing - then that was just between them.

* * *

{Bond level 10}

David liked to play for everyone if the opportunity to use his skills as a harpist ever came up. As it turned out, there were quite a few musically inclined Servants currently residing in Chaldea. Mozart, of course, preferred a full orchestra for his conducting. Arjuna could play almost anything that had a string - and was damnably _good_ at it too. Elizabeth sometimes sang, but few others could match up to her sense of rhythm.

It made for some interesting nights, sometimes.

Rama liked to listen, but more than that he liked to dance as well. If it was just David playing then he was more inclined to sit with small group and avidly watch David pluck the strings, soaking up the lovely notes with a reverent sort of happiness. But if the music had drums, or if Arjuna were playing, one could safely bet that Rama would eventually join the dancers.

Best part was that he looked like he was having so much fun that it was impossible to begrudge him.

Rem watched from her spot on one of the couches, leaning against the armrest and tucked her legs under herself to give Vlad more room to sit. He didn't take up much space, truthfully, but it paid to be mindful of his personal space. The Count had his eyes on something else, possibly the cello Mozart had managed to abduct from... somewhere. She just hoped no one dropped it.

"Not going to join in?" Vlad asked, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

She thought about it, eyeing the easy quickness of Rama's feet and how smoothly he kept time to the music. Someone had managed to rope Arash onto the makeshift dance floor and he looked like he wasn't sure if he should be excited or quietly terrified. Asterios watched the them with fascination from where he sat, legs folded under him and eyes unblinking.

"If the crowd were smaller, maybe." She finally answered, smiling as she propped her chin up on one hand. "Something tells me that Cu Chulainn might decide to start trouble and I don't want to be in the middle of it when it happens."

Vlad stifled a chuckle, looking away from Mozart's attempts to shoo Elizabeth away to take a gander at the dancers. Caster Cu Chulainn had declined to attend, but his Lancer incarnation had mischief written all over his face. It would just be a matter of time until he struck.

"Understandable." Vlad mused. He said nothing more as the music picked up once again and he made no attempt to stop Rama from sweeping over after another three songs to tug at her hand.

"Dance with me." Rama's eyes were bright and shining, his smile wide. He wasn't even breathing hard. She groaned, glanced at Vlad for assistance, and let Rama tug her up onto her feet.

It was impossible to tell him no when he was like this. The problem was that he _knew_ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is purely platonic. I can't really see Rama falling for anyone besides Sita, honestly.
> 
> Savitra is one of Karna's many names. The meaning that I know for it is "son of Surya" and the reason that Rama refers to the name "Karna" as awful is for it's meaning: "one who peels/cuts off their/his own natural armor/skin". I figured it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to think Rama might know Karna by a different, if not all, his names.
> 
> The "sort-of nephew" thing with Arjuna is a bit of an inside joke.


	10. Bonds - Lancelot (Saber)

{Bond level 0}

 

“Servant. Saber.” He begins, lifting his gaze once the bright lights have faded. Old habit and manners nag at him to bend his knee but he suppresses it. It is not his King that he stands before, only a new Master, and until they have proven themselves he will not afford them such courtesy. Looking up, however, brings a familiar face into view and Lancelot finds his tongue faltering. It is no stranger that has summoned him – though he would not go so far as to call themselves true friends.

“Lancelot.” Rem finishes for him, her eyes appraising as she looks him over. It’s hard to guess what she might be feeling, her expression carefully neutral. “Good to see you again. You remember me?”

He nods, then sternly checks himself. His master has asked him a question and the least he can do is answer.

“I do.” He says carefully, coaxing his fingers into loosening their hold on his sword. “Mine apologies. I had not expected my Master to be someone I already knew.”

She waved a hand, fingers and palm streaked with dust from saint quartz. “No need. It’s a nice surprise, seeing you again. Welcome to Chaldea. You’re my third Saber so far.” Extending her hand for him to take she smiled, faint and far less accusing than he felt he deserved.

It took a moment but he eventually closed his hand carefully around her own, remembering that he was supposed to shake it slowly rather than bring her knuckles up to his lips.

“My blade is yours for now.” Lancelot inclined his head. “Thank you for allowing me to stay.”

* * *

{Bond level 1}

 

“You don’t sparkle.” Rem had a thoughtful look in her eyes as she studied him, a hand raised to block out the worst of the sun from blinding her. To her right the man who called himself Robin Hood suddenly coughed, unlit cigarette threatening to tumble right out of his mouth.

Lancelot paused, taking his eyes off the path ahead to look at his master again. Just to be sure that he hadn’t misheard. “Pardon?”

“A lot of the stories made it out like you were so perfect that you literally sparkled. Day or night, didn’t matter.” Rem shrugged, adjusting the bag Da Vinci had given her to sit more comfortably on her shoulders. “But here we are in broad daylight and you don’t sparkle.”

This time, Robin Hood’s sudden coughing fit sounded suspiciously close to laughter. Poorly smothered laughter, at that.

Not for the first time Lancelot wondered just _what_ the legends of the Knights of the Round had been twisted into, to come up with such things. If anyone ought to sparkle and shine with otherworldly light, shouldn’t it have been the King? Or Gawain even, as he was the Knight of the Sun?

He tried to place whether or not it was disappointment on Rem’s face. It was hard to tell when she was shading her face like that, but staring was poor manners. Especially staring at a lady. Even more so when she was his employer.

“I am… sorry?” Lancelot managed, the task assigned by Da Vinci momentarily forgotten.

Robin Hood ducked his head, tugging the ragged green hood further down over his face. It did not quite manage to hide the quick smile on the archer’s face, but Lancelot had no intentions of starting a fuss over it.

“Don’t be.” Rem lowered her hand at last, looking past him to where a faint smudge on the horizon might have been a village. “If you did sparkle it would probably get annoying pretty fast. Especially for you, since you’d have to live with it.”

“Please take care with your jests, Master.” Lancelot sighed.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

 

“Thank you, Master.” Lancelot smiled. It felt slightly odd. A little unsure. It had been a long time since he’d felt the need to smile. “I feel stronger now. I hope to improve even more in the future.”

In truth he felt lighter than he had in years, his armor no longer dark and stained with his failure. That did not mean he had forgotten – how could he ever? But this, the new strength coursing through his limbs and the sense of purpose that straightened his back… He had missed this feeling.

“I’m sure you will.” Rem patted his arm, smiling at the sound his armor made. “Sorry for working you so hard at first. Hopefully you’ll have some time to yourself here soon.”

He was not certain he liked the sound of that. True, rest was necessary to mend the body and the mind; too much time spent alone and in thought could unravel all that hard work. And really, once he decided to acknowledge that, he had nothing to do but sit and think if there were no missions to carry out. He would need to find something productive to do then.

“It is no trouble. In the beginning, we struggled to make sure that Britain would not fall.” Lancelot’s smile faded. “Grueling work, it was. But worthwhile. I do not mind such labor if it brings us closer to our goal.”

“No working yourself to death.” Rem warned. “Chaldea has too many people who forget to eat and sleep as it is.”

* * *

{Bond level 3}

 

It was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d begrudgingly acknowledged it. Dreaded it even, in the secret places of his heart. But with dread also came a faint tug of longing because even if he could never put his splintered loyalty to his King to rights, he hoped to make some amends with Galahad. Still, to turn a corner in Chaldea and suddenly be faced with Mashu was… disorienting. He faltered a step, almost tripped over his own feet, and in the mess of a weak apology he wanted to say something else.

_How is it you came to be this way?_ He wanted to ask. _How much do you remember?_

_Do you hate me still?_

Mashu’s surprised expression faded, replaced by dislike and something that might have been cold disdain. Her eye narrowed as she looked him over, shoulders tight and arms stiff at her sides.

“Father.” She said at last. Reluctantly, as if the word had to be pried from some inner part of her being.

“G- “ He stopped himself, clearing his throat awkwardly. This still confused him somewhat. But he would try, with all his might, to cause no offense. She did not seem to be aware of how his heart shuddered at the word ‘ _father_ ’. Or if she did, she did not care unless it hurt him. “Mashu. It is good to see you again. Are you… are you well?”

She frowned, arms folding. “Good enough. I heard Senpai summoned you but…” Something flickered across her face too quickly for him to read and she looked away. “I did not expect to see you here.” It sounded like an admission, free of any intentional malice. He had been keeping busy with material harvesting for the past three weeks.

“You haven’t been causing trouble for Senpai, have you?” Mashu turned her attention back to him suddenly, glaring through the screen of her hair. It reminded him so much of Galahad that Lancelot forced himself to swallow.

“No.” He assured quickly, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “No, I swear it. Master only needed an extra sword arm to gather materials.” _This isn’t like before_ , he wanted to add.

Mashu continued to glare, as if that might get him to confess anything he’d dared to try and keep secret. He waited, counting his own quickened heartbeats until she finally relaxed and her stare softened. It wasn’t by much.

“Good. Keep it that way.” She brushed past him, too fast for him to think of reaching out to stop her.

Lancelot tracked her progress with resigned weariness, feeling yet another chance slip through his fingers.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

 

“You really held off your enemies with an elm branch?” Alexander’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter, peering at Lancelot as though he’d performed some miracle once unheard of. “And after? Were you able to return home safely?”

Lancelot nodded, shifting to get more comfortable on the log he’d chosen as his seat. Mentions of the tale had drawn more than Alexander’s curious eyes his way and he felt himself becoming stiff under such scrutiny. He didn’t quite have Gawain’s knack for recounting tales, even if they were his own legends. More than once he’d been told that he made for a rather droll storyteller. Seeing Alexander light up so, however, put him somewhat at ease. It was clear that Alexander loved adventure, regardless of wherever it might lead.

“I did.” Lancelot admitted. “It was a grueling fight, as my enemies often sought to undermine me by attacking in pairs or more. The elm branch was no replacement for my sword, in truth, but it withstood the assault until I could clear a path. My return was less than glamorous – but it was a return.”

Despite the lack of flair he insinuated into the telling Alexander smiled nonetheless. Drawing his legs up, the Rider bounced a little where he sat. He looked, to Lancelot, like any other boy and not the King of Conquerors to be.

“To return home victorious is no small thing.” Alexander’s smile turned soft. “I am glad to hear that you managed it, after such a trial.”

“As am I.” Lancelot agreed, surprising himself by meaning it. “I might not have been able to meet anyone like all of you, otherwise.”

* * *

{Bond level 5}

 

“To think that we have come so far together. When we first met, I never would have dreamed of such a thing.” Lancelot flexed his hands, reveling in their wholeness. The magic spent by his master’s Command Seal had yet to fade, invigorating him. What wounds he still possessed were minor, easily ignored things. He had difficulty remembering when last he’d felt so at ease with himself.

“Well, I think we’ve managed to share the load.” Rem shook her hand to get rid of the lingering tingle of magic. Two of her seals remained, he noticed. In previous weeks she might have been reduced to just one or none at all – the strength of their enemy growing every time they dared to think they’d at last found even ground.

It was progress, he hoped. That they’d made it this far and not needed to strain themselves so much.

“Master.” He hesitated, watching her turn to face him curiously. Words collected at the back of his tongue. For all their familiarity, each one weighed like stone in his mouth. “Master, there is something I would like to say…”

She cocked her head, studying him with that same appraising look she’d first greeted him with. “Alright. This isn’t the part where you ask me if you can play chess with Zhuge Liang again, is it? The two of you get too competitive.”

“Ah…” Lancelot cleared his throat, feeling self-conscious heat creep up his neck. “No. It is not about that. My apologies, however, for being a bother on that note.”

“Nothing to worry about.” Rem shook her head, folding her arms. “So, what’s on your mind?”

Drawing himself up, Lancelot lowered his arms so that he would not fidget with his gauntlets. He swallowed, bracing himself and willed his tongue not to trip up as he spoke. “My knight’s vow. To be your blade for as long as circumstance demanded it. I would like to renew it, if you would allow me the indulgence.”

For the first time since they’d met, his master looked uncertain. She looked away, considering the windswept, gravel-studded plain around them. He waited, afraid that perhaps he’d overstepped.

“I’m not King Arthur, you know.” Rem said at last, voice soft. Soft enough that he had to strain his ears to hear it. She turned to look at him, expression carefully neutral. “I wouldn’t ask for you to give up your loyalty to him. Your king is your king.”

“That is not what I meant.” Lancelot breathed out a sigh of relief. The temptation to chuckle was strong. He resisted only because it might seem rude to laugh at his master’s confusion.

Smiling, he said, “I would renew my vow to _you_ , Master. To be your blade in truth, to repay all that you have done for me. Because of you I have been able to move past old regrets and become like the man I once was. To serve at your side… that would be the highest honor. Only once have I ever felt such a blessing, in Camelot and at my King’s beck and call. You are different, I know, but what you have given me is irreplaceable.”

“Sounds like you’ve given it some thought.” One of Rem’s hands strayed up towards her hair and began to twirl a loose strand of it almost nervously. She looked uncertain, still. “I’m grateful, I really am. You’ve been a bigger help than you know, Lancelot.”

Then, before he could apologize and retract his words she added, “Let’s hold off on that for a little bit. Just… until things are a little calmer.”

“Yes, Master.” He answered softly.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

 

“You look upset.” Mashu observed. Her voice startled him, making him jump and spin to face her. He stared at her for a moment, surprised that she would deign to speak to him when they had been avoiding each other more or less. At least he’d thought they had been.

Perhaps it was simple happenstance after all?

“I am not upset.” Lancelot managed after clearing his throat. His voice sounded rough to his own ears and he winced. Swallowing, he made himself relax. Mashu was not his enemy. Far from it, he hoped. “What made you think I might be?”

“Ushiwakamaru mentioned that you left the training simulation rather quickly after the final round.” Reaching up to straighten her glasses, Mashu chewed on her bottom lip. “That the last opponent had been someone you knew but… different.”

Lancelot tried to push the memory away. He’d known it had been a battle simulation, of course. An exercise to improve their skills, no more and no less. The red haired doctor who managed the simulations likely hadn’t meant anything by it when he’d chosen the opponents. If that was even something he could do.

Still, it had _hurt_ to see Altria’s form twisted by darkness and corruption. To think that such a thing might have happened – because of him or by the actions of his fellow knights. Perhaps, if things had been different, their King of Knights might have become such a fearsome and hateful warrior.

Bile rose up in his throat and Lancelot pushed it back. Mashu was looking at him, her gaze tinged with concern.

“It was a hard battle.” He forced himself to say. “But I am well. Or will be, once a few hours pass.” He could not help a self-depreciating chuckle. “Thank you, Mashu, for your concern.”

She frowned. He was about to apologize when she cut him off.

“I’m glad that you were unhurt. Perhaps… perhaps next time we can fight together.”

He stared, speechless, until he remembered himself. “That… I would be honored.”

* * *

{Bond level 7}

“What was she like?” Nursery Rhyme asked softly. She swung her legs back and forth, the backs of her shoes occasionally bumping against the legs of her chair. “Nimue, I mean. The Lady of the Lake. You knew her, didn’t you?”

Looking at her, it was easy to believe that Nursery Rhyme was no more than an endearing girl. Too young to be involved in this war for humanity’s survival. Yet when she looked at him he could see that her eyes were not necessarily that of a child. She had too much composure, the faint frown of her mouth too sad. Still, she had asked him a question and he would do his best to answer.

“I did.” Turning the page of the book she had given to him, Lancelot skimmed over the text to find where he’d left off in the story. Something about a cat who could talk and a little girl who’d lost her way on the path home. Soon enough the text looked more familiar and Lancelot smiled, tilting the book so that Nursery Rhyme could see the pictures.

She leaned over to look, tracing the soft colored drawing with solemn eyes. One side of her mouth quirked as she looked at the girl called Alice and Lancelot wondered if she had read this story before.

“What was she like?” Nursery Rhyme repeated, looking up at him rather than the book she treasured so.

Casting his mind back, Lancelot tried to figure out a way to answer her question. What memories he could recall were… odd. Things which had seemed normal to him as a child now appeared strange, as though he were looking through a slightly warped lens or mirror. When he tried to recall what Nimue’s voice sounded like all that can to mind was the gentle sound of water lapping at the shore.

“She was lovely,” he began at last, sensing Nursery Rhyme’s curious stare. “In the way that the fae are always lovely. Softer and harder, somehow, than a mortal could be. I remember that she was kind to me, after I lost my parents. Distant, but very kind.”

Nursery Rhyme lowered her gaze back to the book he held, considering the page and its little drawing of Alice. Slowly, carefully, she reached out to take the book from him and mark their place. He let her, wondering what might have encouraged her to make that decision.

“Tell me a new story.” Facing him, one leg curled under herself and her book nestled in her lap, Nursery Rhyme searched his face. “One only you would know.”

Lancelot smiled. He had plenty of stories, just little talent in making them sound exciting.

“Very well.”

* * *

{Bond level 8}

 

His master called out to him, drawing him up short in his escape. Lancelot sucked in a breath and held it before sighing. Turning to face her, he noted that she only looked concerned. That made him feel slightly worse. She’d looked to be having fun at the party – now she was out in the dark with him rather than enjoying herself with close companions. She stopped a respectful distance away, folding her arms across her stomach.

It was a little cold, he figured. Nighttime along the island’s coastline was beautiful but it was too easy to forget about the elements.

“You don’t have to run off and be by yourself, y’know.” Rem lightly scuffed the toe of her boot in the sand. “Arash made enough for everyone – probably more than that, knowing him.”

“He remembers me.” Lancelot heard himself say, unable to help a grimace. “I’d hoped that he wouldn’t, if we happened to meet again.”

Rem rocked back on her heels, thoughtful. “I don’t think he’s got any hard feelings towards you. What happened in the singularity was a one-time event, right?”

The easy answer was _yes_. They were all on the same side now – united under the banner of Chaldea as it were. Looking at things through that lens, he had very little to worry about. But he _remembered_. Remembered lifting his sword in the name of the Lion King, waging war on those who did not wholly deserve it. He’d tried to help those his King passed over, yes, but _had it been enough_?

“Hey.” Rem’s hand closed around his arm, warming him. “You’re overthinking. It’s a lot, I know, but you don’t have to keep beating yourself up for things in the past.”

Lancelot said nothing, though his gaze strayed towards the campfire they’d left behind.

It didn’t escape Rem’s notice either. She squeezed his arm once, gently, and closed her fingers around the loose fabric of his sleeve to tug him back the way they’d come. He followed after the second pull, feet heavy and legs stiff.

“Come on.” She encouraged. “At least hang around a bit for Mashu’s sake. You two are doing a little better now, right?”

He swallowed back the desire to say I hope so and carefully nodded instead. Up the path, Arash’s campfire grew brighter with every step and he could hear friendly voices. Some seemed to be exchanging pleasant tales, or spinning new ones from experience or whole cloth. The smell of food made his stomach flutter even though he was a Servant and didn’t really need to eat. He relented at last, following his master back into the ring of light and settled in among those seated around the fire.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

 

“Has your wish for the Grail changed?” Rem stuffed her hands into her pockets, looking more comfortable in street clothes than her Chaldea uniform. It is the most relaxed he has ever seen her. He feels less self-conscious about his own casual wear now that he’s grown comfortable in her presence.

They are both waiting for the next update from Dr. Roman about new rayshift procedures. The silence is comfortable around them and no one has set managed to set fire to something in another part of the building. Lancelot cherishes the quiet, idly picking at his sleeve as he thinks. There is much he could say on the matter – that _no_ , his wish hasn’t truly changed. But the answer is also _yes_ because in some ways his wish is different than the choice he would have initially made.

“If I had to choose…” Lancelot begins slowly, staring out into Chaldea’s gardens. “Then I would ask to see the King of Knights one more time. Just to speak to him once more… that would be enough.”

Rem hides a smile in the fall of her hair, streaked with blue once more. Her fingers run over her Command Seals thoughtfully and she hums.

“Maybe you’ll get the chance.”

* * *

{Bond level 10}

 

“That was…” Rem trailed off, voice hoarse and tired, “something.”

Standing beside her, watching the way she cradled her bleeding arm, Lancelot was inclined to agree. His armor almost resembled the blackened set he’d worn upon first being summoned; soot clung to the once pristine metal and it had been deeply scored by dragon’s claws. If he tried to breathe too quickly his chest would hurt. The air tasted like brimstone. He tried to breathe shallowly, hoping to avoid further irritation.

“Will you be alright, Master?” He asked.

With the shadow of a dragon and its kin no longer hovering around them he hoped things would be a little easier. The way back to camp would be long – down a mountain’s steep paths and sudden drops at that. His master held herself very still but didn’t seem to have taken injury to her legs. That wasn’t enough to make up for the shame of letting the enemy get past his guard, but the fact that she was still alive softened some of the blow.

Rem tugged the short mantle of the Mage’s Association uniform around, making a sort of sling for her arm. She winced as she moved it, color draining from her face alarmingly quick. He reached out to help a moment too late, frozen by indecision and worry that the injury was much worse than what could be tended to in the field.

“Think I can manage.” She answered at last, her breath a little short. “Til we can get to a leyline, anyway. Then I can summon everyone again.”

“There should be fewer monsters around the mountain now.” Lancelot mused, offering her his hand. She took it and together they began to pick their way back towards safety. It was slow, careful going and every step brought a brief flash of pain to his chest. He hoped their camp hadn’t been attacked as well. If pressed he could probably put up a fight, but neither of them were in any condition for a drawn-out battle.

It was a relief, then, to see safe haven. The sun had begun its descent by the time they reached their destination but it was enough to see by and make sure nothing had been damaged in their absence. Rem let out a heavy sigh as she redrew the summoning circle, swaying a little on her feet. Lancelot looked away from the sparse forest nearby and tried to steady her enough so that she wouldn’t fall.

“Thanks.” Her smile was quick, shadowed and then it was gone. Light gathered in the lines of her summoning circle and he sensed the rise of mana as she tapped into the leyline’s natural well. It washed over him in a healing spell and drove the tiredness from his bones, sealed wounds that his armor hadn’t been able to protect him against.

An admonishment weighed down his tongue – she should have healed herself first, if anything, rather than focus on him.

“About what you said before.” Rem cut him off before he could voice a protest, magic twisting around her fingers. “Your vow.”

Lancelot paused. He remembered the conversation well enough. “Yes?”

“You can renew it now, if you like.” She sent a darkly amused glance his way. “Things are about as calm as they’re ever going to get.”

Heat spread through his chest, warm and bright. He smiled, a hand resting on the pommel of his sword. She had a good point - one could never count on the generosity of the world for too long. And once she summoned the others of their party things would become noisy and crowded very quickly. There would likely be no other chance in the near future. 

Sinking to a knee Lancelot held her gaze and asked, "Would you accept a vow of loyalty from one such as myself, Master?"

The corners of Rem's mouth curled upwards.

"I'm not Guinevere." She told him firmly. "And I don't think I can measure up to the King of Knights. But it means something to you. And I don't mind accepting - you're already a knight to me."

She reached out with the hand marked by faded Command Seals and lightly nudged his shoulder with her knuckles. It was friendly. Familiar. Not at all like the ceremonious air his King had exuded in Camelot.

"How 'bout we both pledge to do our best? Sound fair?" Rem smiled. 

Lancelot took her hand carefully and inclined his head. "It is a start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Purely platonic in this one. Rem kinda considers Lancelot to be a distant uncle of sorts after a point.


	11. Diarmuid - Search and Recover

"Diarmuid! Are you busy?" Rem called, twisting the length of her hair up and into a roughly shaped bun. She tried to step lightly on the hot sand, hissing under her breath when she didn't quite succeed. Diarmuid watched her pick her way over to the shade where he sat, forgetting about the palm frond he'd been braiding.

"Are you alright?" He asked instead, glancing at her feet.

She nodded, kneeling down to be at his level. "Just forgot my sandals. Shouldn't be a problem as long as I don't kick a crab or something."

Diarmuid hid a smile and added a few more folds to his little project. It had no real meaning, just something to do that would pass the time until he was needed. Not that he was bored. In-between securing a reliable shelter against the elements and locating food supplies he'd been wishing for a bit of a break.

"What did you need, Master?" Tying off the end of the plait he considered it for a moment. Once it dried it might last long enough to be worn. It would still be fragile, of course - but perhaps Mashu would like it.

Rem gave his handiwork an appreciative glance and smiled. "Looks good. Maybe someone's found some hemp and you can try that next." When he sputtered she chuckled. Then her expression grew more serious and she added, "Marie said that the dodos managed to find a weak spot in the fence and a few got out. She got some of them back in, but there's still a couple missing."

Diarmuid frowned, tucking the palm frond away for later and moved to stand. "I'm not busy. You want me to help you look for them, Master? Should we bring someone else?"

Standing up, Rem dusted off her knees before answering. "The two of us should be okay. I don't think they'd get very far." She grinned, hands on her hips. "Dodos are dumb as rocks most of the time. And lazy. It's why they went extinct."

He hadn't known that. Diarmuid turned that notion over in his head as he shouldered his spear. Better to be safe than sorry, he figured; what with much of the island still being unexplored. Even if the birds hadn't gone far there was still a possibility of being attacked by monstrous crabs. The thought of meeting his end because of one didn't sit well with him.

"Alright." He smiled. "Ready to go when you are, Master."

They crossed the beach back towards the girls' home base slowly, sticking to what shaded areas they could find. Rem shook her head when he asked if she'd like to find her sandals before continuing. Marie told them what she could when they arrived at the dodo coop, her expression tinged with worry and a few of the ornaments missing from her long hair.

"I haven't seen any return." She confessed, patting the head of a dodo as it stopped within reach of her hand. "I don't think they meant any harm. Maybe they were bored and decided to play somewhere else..?"

Privately, Diarmuid had doubts that the waddling animals knew how to play at all.

"We'll find them." Rem assured, rocking back on her heels. "They aren't that fast. How many haven't come back yet?"

"Three." Marie sighed. "One of them had a scratch on its beak, I remember that. Poor thing must have gotten into a fight with something."

Diarmuid waited as Rem tried to comfort Marie, scanning the ground and treeline for any clues as to where the birds might have gone. Their tracks were easy to spot at least - where the first few had escaped their coop the marks had yet to be rubbed away by passing feet. A couple of feathers remained by the tracks, almost as if several birds had bumped into one another in their confusion.

"Ready?" Rem asked. He nodded.

They followed the tracks away from the coop, pausing to survey the damage done to a section of Martha's crop field. Neither of them wanted to be around when Martha vowed to take her revenge. Saint or not, Martha's recently exposed sadistic streak was unnerving enough to both of them.

From the field they followed the dodos' trail into the forest. The first one Diarmuid came across let out a startled squawk that hurt his ears and tried its best to shuffle away when he tried to herd it towards Rem. His doubts about their intelligence were reinforced when the creature stumbled over a root and tumbled, panicking when it could not immediately get up again.

"Easy, easy..." Rem tried to make her voice sound soothing as she reached for the bird. One large foot kicked out, narrowly missing her leg and she grunted as she hauled the dodo to its feet.

"Master - " Diarmuid started forward, intending to help, and together they managed to get the squirming creature upright and mostly docile. It glared at them with one eye, clicking its beak irritably.

"Dumbass." Rem muttered at it, rolling her eyes.

Diarmuid made a sound of agreement beside her. He returned the dodo's baleful look with one of his own, pleased when it suddenly lost all interest in making itself appear bigger than it actually was. It's short wings flapped once, large feet digging into the earth.

"How shall we get it back to the coop, Master?" Diarmuid asked. "The other two might not be far from here, but herding all three at once might prove troublesome."

Rem looked back the way they'd come with a frown, trying to measure the distance. Provided their quarry didn't try and run off again, she thought they would be able to make it back to base without too much trouble.

"Wish I'd thought to bring some rope." She admitted ruefully. The dodo flapped its wings again, nudging at her with its beak.

"I can go back." Diarmuid offered. "Or we can make sure this one gets back first and take someone else with us on the next trip." He frowned, thinking. "Not Marie. Perhaps Cu Chulainn or Karna?"

Rem glanced at him, a smile curving her mouth. "Cu might hate us forever if we put him on livestock duty. Karna'll do it if we ask, but the birds might try and eat his cloak."

He tried to hide it, Diarmuid really did, but the twitch of his lips was unmistakable.

"That may be so, Master." He tried to keep a neutral tone as he said it. _Tried._

"Let's take this one back." Rem chuckled, reaching out to steer the bored dodo back into place. "I can grab some rope or something and we can tie the other two together once we find them. We'll see if Cu or Karna feel like wrangling some birds. Maybe you guys can take them back to your little hideaway village and keep them for eggs or something."

Under the dappled light of the forest Diarmuid flushed guiltily. He cleared his throat, resting Gae Buidhe on his shoulder.

"That... that would be considerate of you, Master." He paused, glancing at her curiously. "How did you know about the village..?"

"I asked Karna where he was heading off to with the spare tarp." She answered easily, following him as they began their trek back to base. "He said Cu Chulainn needed it for a project and I tagged along with him to see what was up."

Rem winked. "Don't worry. Secret's safe with me."

Despite himself, Diarmuid laughed. "Thank you, Master."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based around the summer event that recently came to NA. So far it's been enjoyable. I couldn't resist trying my hand at some shenanigans.


	12. Cu Chulainn (Caster) - Petty Theft

"Is that mine?" Cu Chulainn's voice drew Rem up short and she turned to face him slowly. It was a little hard to see his face through the fur of her hood so she pushed it back, quirking her mouth up into a smirk as she met his eye.

"Nope. It's mine." She told him with obvious amusement, folding her arms as he stared at her. His gaze strayed to the soft blue garment, tracing the familiar item knowingly. When his eyes settled on her face again Cu was smiling.

He took a step forward, lifting the hem with a finger.

"You know, Master." Cu drawled. "This looks an awful lot like my mantle. Right down to the pattern and everything." He gave the cloth a soft tug, peering down at her curiously.

"Are you sure it's not mine? I wouldn't have taken you to be a thief, Master."

Rem gently swatted at his hand, smiling even when he feigned hurt. "Pretty sure. After all, I _do_ know a bit about sewing. And it's not my fault if you forgot your clothes in your room."

"So you've been in my room?" Cu raised a brow, looking delightedly shocked. It was brief but the wide smile on his face allowed her a glimpse of the sharp points of his teeth. "Master - how could you? It's common courtesy to ask permission before going into someone's private quarters. You might have been exposed to something indecent."

" _You're_ pretty indecent." She nudged him back a step, amused when he humored her. "Now move. I'm supposed to meet with Da Vinci and see what she's come up with for the next supply run."

When she tried to get around him Cu made a playful grab for the hood of the mantle, forcing her to dance out of his reach. He tried again, letting her get away by the skin of her teeth. There was a relaxed sort of laziness in every attempt despite the fact he could easily close the gap if he really wanted to. Rem settled for backpedaling, moving no faster than she really had to.

Finally he gave up, laughter bouncing off the walls of Chaldea's too-quiet hallway.

"Alright, alright." Cu waved a hand at her. "Keep it for now. I'll just take something of yours and refuse to give it back until you're sick of it."

"Not my fault you left your stuff unattended." Rem countered, tugging the mantle closer. It was warm, which would be a boon during the next supply run. Frequent wear had made the fabric soft and she privately liked the feeling of running her fingers over it.

Before he could change his mind she took off, calling a teasing farewell over her shoulder. Cu watched her go, a hand on his hip and an amused light in his eyes. He shook his head once she was out of sight, feeling the length of his hair tickle against his back.

"Been spending too much time around Robin Hood, haven't you? Oh well. Let's see how you like it when I lock you out of your room, Master."


	13. Bonds - Kid Gil

{Bond level 0}

"Good morning, Master." He smiled, rocking back on the heels of his feet. Judging from the surprised look on her face, he suspected that this had not been the meeting she'd anticipated. Briefly, he wondered if she had expected a different Archer. Perhaps a completely different class.

But she was relaxing, her mouth curving into a smile and she didn't look disappointed at all. It ought to have felt silly, but he was a little relieved that she didn't seem ready to toss him away.

"Good morning to you too." Collecting the craft essences that had been summoned prior to his arrival his Master shot him a curious, though amiable, look. "Not to be rude, but you're a little young to be an Archer aren't you?"

"Ah." Coming back down on the balls of his feet, he smiled. "Not really, Master. This form is... a unique case. But I promise that I will be a reliable Servant for you. As for a name..."

He paused, lowering his gaze to the floor. Several options came to mind, but only one of them was a choice he liked.

"Please call me Gil, Master." He decided, smiling up at her cheerfully. "I look forward to working with you."

"Call me Rem." Pocketing the portraits of the craft essences, she offered him her hand. She smiled warmly enough. And if she were confused about him at all, she didn't show it right then. "I'm glad you're here."

Gil took her hand slowly and shook it firmly, amused that his own was so small. "Thank you, Master Rem. Shall we get going?"

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"Something to talk about?" Gil mused, crossing his legs and leaning back to rest his weight on his hands. He frowned thoughtfully, drumming the fingers of one hand lightly. It was cute in a way, how open he allowed his expression and body language to be. Not many of the older Servants held themselves with such ease. It was a little refreshing.

"I could tell you almost any story you might want, Master." He said at length, looking up at her curiously. "But I would much rather learn about you."

Rem tried not to laugh, gently spinning a saint quartz between her fingers. "That so? I don't really have big stories to tell. Or I didn't," she amended, "before I came here."

"We could trade facts about ourselves if you want." Gil sat up a little straighter, eyes brightening. "That might be easier than telling a story."

"Question for question then?" She hummed. Light danced off the facets of the saint quartz, creating its own mesmerizing kaleidoscope. "That sounds fair. Let's just keep it from getting too out of hand, alright?"

Gil nodded, bouncing his leg as he thought. "Fair enough. I shall go first, then. Let's start with something simple..." He paused, chewing idly on his lip. "What part of the world did you come from before you arrived at Chaldea?"

"Mexico." Rem closed her hand around the dancing quartz, looking up at Gil's inquisitive face. "I grew up there til I was six. Then we moved cause my parents got better jobs."

"I'm not familiar with that part of the world." Gil admitted softly. "Will you tell me about it sometime?"

"That's two questions." She teased, gently nudging his knee with the tip of her shoe. "But sure. I'll tell you about it - what I remember, anyway."

He beamed. "I shall look forward to it. Now, I believe it is your turn. You may ask me two things, since I broke the rules first."

"Alright..." Folding her legs, Rem searched her mind for something to ask. She settled for an easy, unobtrusive question. "You have any siblings?"

Gil tilted his head, brows lifting in surprise. "Not that I was ever aware of. Not by blood, at least. There was one person whom I loved like a brother." He smiled, soft and fond. "My dearest friend."

She waited for him to continue. When he didn't, she posed her second question. "What was your favorite thing to do back when you were alive?"

"At the age I am now?" He asked. She nodded and Gil sat up straight, drumming his fingers on his knees in thought. "I liked exploring the most. Even if it was just the palace, there was always something new to see and admire. Sometimes I would try and sneak away just to avoid my lessons, but someone would find me eventually."

"Sounds like you're a bit of a troublemaker." Rem mused.

Gil laughed and the sound was at once young and old. Like he was more than just the sweet-faced boy sitting before her, offering to tell stories about himself in exchange for facts about her. But of course he was more, she reminded herself. Gil was a Servant, despite his young age. A very powerful Servant.

She had a guess about that. Who he might really be.

"Your turn." She reminded him, tossing the saint quartz for him to catch.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"Do we... need to stop?" Jekyll asked, pushing his glasses up with one finger. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, making once loose wisps of his hair cling to his skin. He'd shucked his coat in favor of tying it around his waist, but kept his gloves despite the heat.

Gil shook his head, looking flushed but no worse for wear. In a couple of strides he'd caught up to the group again and ducked his head in apology for falling behind. "I'm fine. Just..."

Looking up, Gil considered the trees surrounding their group with uneasy eyes.

"I don't like forests." He said at last, voice surprisingly small.

Jekyll paused, glancing back the way they'd come. The path was faint but no monsters revealed themselves. It would be much the same when they continued onward, he hoped. Forests weren't his favorite sort of environment either, least of all when they were separated from their Master. It was different in Gil's case, Jekyll suspected. He wouldn't ask though. That would be too personal.

"If we... continue... the way we've been going," Jekyll began softly, "then we should rendezvous with Master... in a quarter of an hour. We should... be free of the forest before then... if that helps."

Gil didn't say anything, gaze still focused up towards the creeping boughs above their heads. Almost like he expected something, or perhaps someone, to come crashing down on top of them.

Jekyll hesitated, feeling as though he ought to say something. Something comforting, perhaps. He wasn't good with such words. They stuck to his tongue, tightening his throat until it felt as though he couldn't speak. Still, _still_ , he wanted to try.

"It will be... alright." He managed somewhat hoarsely. Gil finally tore his eyes away from the canopy above them, staring at Jekyll as though it were the first time he'd properly paid attention.

Slowly, _very_ slowly, Gil relaxed. "Thank you."

Tentative warmth crept up the tense walls of Jekyll's chest. He wanted to fidget with his gloves but didn't. "You are... welcome."

* * *

{Bond level 3}

There were certain problems that came with being summoned as a child, Gil decided. Though he had an abundance of energy - something his older selves would have envied - he lacked the physical means to get to where he wanted to go at times. Tall stairs could be challenging, though going _up_ was always a little harder than going _down_. If something was placed above a certain height he would not be able to reach it, though he'd occasionally made do with using his King's Treasure to bring objects down to his level or to offer a useful substitute.

It was not a perfect solution. Sometimes he did a little more harm than good. Like now, watching flour spill out of the bag he'd tried to lift with one of his Noble Phantasm's chains. Gil winced, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced up at Francis Drake.

"I'm sorry." He told her softly. "I thought I could lift it if I used this." It would have been too heavy otherwise, he didn't say. Though it was likely she could discern that for herself as she glanced at the bag, then at him.

Her sudden and teasing smile was unexpected, however.

"No need to worry. Shouldn't have asked a lad to try and move what a grown man would have trouble with." Stepping past him Drake crouched to inspect the damage, her hands quickly turning pale and dusty as more flour spilled out.

She stood with a huff, towering over him as she dusted her hands off. Clouds of grainy white slowly trickled towards the cargo hold's floor and Gil wrinkled his nose at the tickle.

"We'll leave that for the ghosts, shall we?" Drake hummed, regarding him with one of her sharp smiles. "Let's get outta here. This galleon won't be floating much longer anyways. The crabs'll make bread with it if they want it so bad."

"Very well." Gil smiled, folding his arms behind himself as he rocked back onto his heels. "Let's go then. Master's waiting."

"Sure you don't want to be a pirate?" Drake asked, seemingly unflappable as they made their escape from the enemy ship. "You might be small but those things you pull up from nowhere would be useful!"

Gil laughed, stretching his legs to run faster as the ship shuddered around them. His heart beat like a fluttering bird inside his chest and every breath came sharp and sweet.

How he would have liked to share this with his dear friend. Perhaps they could do this before Gil became too old, too sad - 

"I don't think so Miss!" He called back to Drake. "Hurry!"

* * *

{Bond level 4}

"Growing up..." Gil trailed off, looking down at his hands with a pensive expression. He flexed them, noting that they didn't look too different from before. "I will admit that I have mixed feelings about that..."

"Nothing wrong with feeling that way." Rem tapped the crown of his head gently, drawing his eyes up to her. "You've got a while before you really need to worry about anything." She smiled, soft and teasing and entirely without malice. Despite himself, Gil smiled back.

Privately, he wondered what she would think if she knew either of his older selves. If she would still like him then.

"You're not wrong." Still smiling, Gil tucked his hands into his newly acquired jacket. The pockets were decent, even allowing him to cover up his wrists if he wanted. That would be a big help if they went somewhere cold.

"But there is..." he faltered, smile fading. "There's something I'm afraid of when it comes to growing up. Something I don't want to be."

Mimicking him, Rem's hands eased into the pockets of her jeans. She shifted her weight onto her right leg and looked as pensive as he had just moments ago. Studying her, Gil wondered if she had ever held reservations about growing up as well. It was something everyone experienced at least once, or so he'd been led to believe.

"Well," she began softly, "if you're that worried about it you can always try and be different now. Be someone you think you would enjoy being around, or that other people might come to like."

She nudged his sneaker with the tip of her shoe, a hint of her smile returning. "Things seem scary when you're a kid. Sometimes you grow up and find out that it's not so bad."

"Maybe." Gil hummed, nudging her back. It was light, almost tentative. His promise to his friend - even if it hadn't been made just yet - still stood. But this, this lighthearted teasing, it was okay too. Right?

"I'll do my best, Master." He promised, smiling.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

"You're Gilgamesh, aren't you?" Rem asks quietly, arms wrapped around her knees. Gil looks up, faintly alarmed and surprised; perhaps even a little worried. But despite her slumped posture Rem looks calm, her hair loose and draping over her shoulders.

He likes the blue in it. It's different. Pretty.

"Master?" Gil returns her question with a question. Partly in the hopes of stalling, partly because he's not certain where this inquiry might lead.

" _The_ Gilgamesh." Rem amends, propping her chin on her knees. "From the Mesopotamian epic. That's you. Or _will_ be you, I guess. Am I right?"

Shifting in his spot Gil chewed on his lip. He nodded, a heavy feeling spreading throughout his chest. "As I am now... well, I still consider myself King. If we were in Uruk, you would see my predecessor on the throne."

Gil hesitated, settling his hands in his lap so that he wouldn't fidget. "Does this mean you will be passing over me for one of your other Servants, Master? They're all wonderful - I would not blame you if that was your choice."

Rem blinked. Slowly, as if she did not understand the question. "What?"

"You know who I am - no," Gil hummed, studying her for a moment. "You've suspected for a while. Now that it has been confirmed, you know what I'll become once I grow up."

He frowned, hands unconsciously balling into fists. "I am not Goldie. But... in time I will be." Gil smiled, tiny and sad. "I understand if you would rather keep another of your Servants close, now that you're certain of the truth."

"C'mere."

Gil blinked, features going blank with surprise. "What?"

Rem unwound her arms, sitting up and stretching with a sigh. That done, she relaxed and beckoned him with a hand. "I said come here. Please." She added, for politeness's sake.

Pushing himself up, Gil circled around the fire keeping their camp warm and stopped just out of arm's reach. When she beckoned him to come closer he did, curious and only a little wary.

He did not expect her finger and thumb to pinch his nose. Gil let out an indignant cry and tried to pull his head back. Rem shook his head gently, letting him go with a wry grin he'd never seen her wear before. He rubbed at his nose defensively, eyeing her as she laughed.

"I'm not replacing you." She told him, voice pleasantly low and her tone warm. "Why would I? You're a good kid. No matter what I feel about Goldie, that doesn't apply to you. So don't go thinking I'll put you up on a shelf or something."

Despite his annoyance, Gil felt the knot in his chest relax a little. He wrinkled his nose, trying to get it to stop tingling, and sighed.

"I'm grateful, Master. Thank you."

* * *

{Bond level 6}

"Can I stick my hand in?" Rem eyed the portal into the Gate of Babylon curiously. All she could see was bright golden light, radiant enough to nearly rival the sun. It didn't feel warm per say when she let her hand hover over the gently rippling tear in reality. Her senses were running wild, however, from the amount of mana the Gate gave off.

Gil looked at her with amusement clearly written across his innocent face, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Why would you want to, Master? I'm the only one who can allow something entry or exit from my treasury. I can't promise you won't get hurt."

"Just curious." She admitted, still peering at the portal. "I've never been able to study it up close like this, so I thought I'd get the silly questions out of the way."

"It is a little silly." Gil hummed. He closed the Gate so that it would not drain his mana any further, smiling when his master looked just the littlest bit disappointed. "But that _is_ what I like about you, Master. You're honest about what you think and feel."

* * *

{Bond level 7}

Conversation lulled to a halt as she entered. Many pairs of eyes focused on her as she hesitated in the doorway, counting the heads of her Servants. Among them were faces she hadn't expected. Francis Drake waved at her from her throne of stolen pillows, a cup that could easily be described as a goblet in her other hand. Alexander smiled, his braid tumbling over his shoulder as he turned to looked at her.

At the head of the group, perking up when her eyes fell on him, Gil opened the Gate of Babylon to let another cup exactly like Drake's fall into his hand.

"Good evening, Master. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just curious where some of you went." Rem let the door close behind her. "Mashu said you'd all just disappeared. I was a little concerned."

David bounced his knee, turning his own cup around in his hands. "Just a gathering of Kings, Master. We did not mean to worry you."

Rama nodded, looking comfortable and at home in his nook with Karna's cloak wrapped around him like an offering. Down from him, Ozymandias scratched the chin of his tiny sphinx. The divine beast bopped at his hand, galaxy-tipped tail thrashing as it decided that now was playtime. Nobunaga sneered around her drink, splayed inelegantly in the spot she'd chosen for herself.

"Would you like to stay, Master?" Gil asked, filling the cup he'd summoned with dark wine. "You have nothing immediately pressing, do you?"

"Sure that's alright?" She hummed, glancing once more over all the assembled Servants. All of them had a kingly title attached to their name. A gathering of sovereigns indeed, though she didn't see Romulus.

Maybe he'd found something better to do.

"You are King of Chaldea, aren't you?" Gil mused, a mischievous light in his eyes. A couple of Servants glanced at him, some with disapproval and others with amusement. "Or Queen." He added thoughtfully, offering the cup. "If you would prefer that."

"Don't know about that." Rem mused, folding her arms across her middle. "Let's not step on any toes, 'kay?"

Alexander ushered her over and somehow she found herself moving to join him on the floor. Someone passed her the cup Gil had offered and she turned it around in her hands the way David had done.

"Then join us as our beloved Master." Alexander chuckled, his arm warm and solid when it wrapped around her shoulders. "Without you, none of us would get to meet this way."

She nudged him in the side with her elbow, mouth quirking. "Alright. What're we talking about?"

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"You." Goldie narrowed his eyes, features twisted in distaste as he tried to make himself appear taller. It worked, really, because even without all the golden armor Gilgamesh could strike an intimidating figure. That and the lights overhead make him appear harsher. More unforgiving.

"Me." Gil mused, bringing the cup of hot chocolate up to his lips. " _And_ you." He added, once he'd taken a sip. He swung his legs carelessly, pretending that he was not sitting on top of one of the cafeteria's tables and being glared at by his older self.

A sneer crossed Goldie's face and he crossed his arms over his tattooed chest. "There's no way a _fool_ like _you_ could ever become transcendent like me. Just a naive child is what you are - eagerly serving that _mongrel_."

"It's not so bad." Gil cradled his cup, letting it warm his hands as he met Goldie's furious gaze. "You might come to like her, if you gave her a chance."

His older self let out a scoff.

"No one is the master of me." Goldie lowered his voice, the air around him cold and threatening. "All should throw themselves before me in worship. I am their King, after all."

Gil eased his swinging legs to a stop, regarding his older incarnation with sad eyes. The remaining cocoa tasted bittersweet on his tongue, now.

"He wouldn't have wanted this for us, you know." Gil mused. Goldie stiffened. It was faint, but if one looked closely enough it wasn't impossible to see the sudden change in his posture.

"He would have wanted us to be happy." Gil added, draining his cup in one long gulp in spite of how it made his throat ache uncomfortably. He hopped down from the table, dangling the empty cup from one finger as he wiped his mouth. Looking up at Goldie he frowned, straightening up to what passed to his full height at this age.

"I didn't forget, even if _you_ did. Now don't cause any trouble for our Master. If you do, I'll remind you _why_ our back started to hurt long before either of us were truly old."

Stepping past the seething Archer, Gil let himself out of the cafeteria. The hallway was cool and silent except for the slight whisper of his own feet. He wasn't tired, but he didn't particularly want to talk to anyone at the moment either. So he wandered, staring out the impressive windows at the whirling snow outside.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"Master." Gil murmured, voice small. "Are you awake?"

Rem shifted, lifting her head from her pillow slowly. She blinked, squinting in the dark to see him. Once she could she began to sit up, pushing loose hair out of her face and rubbing sleep from her eyes. He waited, staring out into the dark and tried to think past the uneasy bubbling in his middle.

"What's up, Gil?" Voice thick with sleep she nonetheless reached for him, inviting him into her personal space. "You okay?"

He took her hand and allowed himself to be guided up onto the side of the bed. So close, he could smell traces of her shampoo. Perhaps in another time, another life, he might have nestled closer. Instead Gil kept himself still, lightly squeezing her hand when she tried to comfort him.

"The Gate of Babylon is a place without time." He said quietly. Rem was silent, listening as he tried to piece his words together.

"All of my treasures are there." Gil added. "In a place where they will never rust. Never break. All the technology of that era, and some beyond, resides within my vault. I can even store food and wine. Even cloth. Until I draw it from the Gate, it will remain as fresh and whole as the day it was made."

He swallowed against the sudden dryness of his throat. The thing he wanted to say, what he'd prepared for like a speech, was slipping away from him. Without his silver tongue he felt like an actual child, struggling with a concept that seemed too weighty for total comprehension.

"Might I keep you, Master?" Gil managed at last, hating how tentative his own voice sounded. "You could stay with me forever inside the Gate and no harm might befall you. We would not need to worry about Singularities or anything we did not want to."

"You could have all the jewels you like." He added when Rem didn't say anything. He didn't know what kinds of ornaments she might like, had never thought to ask - but the vaults of Uruk could hold anything he desired them to. "Dresses, perfume, flowers... anything you want, Master."

Silence filled the narrow gap between them. Gil waited, feeling jittery and too warm as seconds passed. Finally, Rem moved. He felt her fingers in his hair and closed his eyes as she smoothed it back.

"I don't think it works that way, Gil." She told him gently. In the dark she was a comfortable shadow, lit only by the green light of her alarm clock. He could feel her warmth and tried to draw it into himself, if only to keep as a fond memory for later.

"I know." He sighed. "Still. I thought I'd try."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

"It's comfortable here with you, Master." Gil sighed, stretching his arms out blissfully as he laid back in the grass. "Are you sure we can't stay the whole day?"

Rem snorted, tossing a ball high for Fou to chase and paw at. He did so with happy abandon, bushy tail the easiest way to keep track of him as he ran. Turning to look at Gil she replied, "Just for a little bit. Geronimo said he'd have everything ready in a few minutes. We'll be able to get to work then."

Gil said nothing, basking in the sunlight. It felt good to be out of Chaldea, even if it was just for a training exercise. He'd missed the outside. But waiting here, in a mimicry of Orleans's plains, wasn't so bad. Even better, there were no forests in sight and he wouldn't have to worry about restricting his Gate of Babylon.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Master?" He asked, opening his eyes to look at her. "We're a team that is mostly Archers. Geronimo is a Caster, is he not?"

"That's right." Crouching, Rem collected the ball Fou brought back and gave it an experimental toss. Fou got low, his eyes fixated on the toy. "But that's alright," she added, throwing the ball. "We're going after Saber-class shadows today."

Gil laughed, pushing himself up and dusting himself off. "I see, I see. Well, I'll do my best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Platonic here, because Gil is a kid. Cute, sweet, full of trouble - but still a kid.


	14. Siegfried - Daze

"Siegfried?" She called gently. When he didn't respond, didn't move, she tried again. "Siegfried..?"

No response comes. Looking at him, she can't help but feel concern. From the top of his head to the toes of his boots Siegfried is dripping with red. Some of it might be his own. She's not entirely sure but the possibility of it seems likely. Fafnir wasn't a being anyone might call an _easy_ or regular enemy. Dragons, true dragons, were in the realm of phantasmal beasts and Fafnir had a reputation even among _them_.

Balmung's tip barely scraped the ground, more red slicking off of it to pool beside it's master's feet. If it weren't for the slight rise and fall of Siegfried's chest Rem might have thought his feet had grown roots and he'd become a statue.

The back of her hand tingled with one unused Command Spell. She didn't use it. It didn't feel right, in her mind, to try and force Siegfried back into himself. So she waited, looking around every so often for any sign of the wyverns Fafnir had called to itself. So far the sky was clear, endlessly blue and it felt out of place somehow. The fading remains of Fafnir's body would soon be gone and the only sign that the great dragon had ever been in Orleans would be a distant memory.

Siegfried stirred, coming back to his surroundings just as she'd confirmed that her other Servants' spirit origins remained intact. She looked up when she heard the rustle of his cloak, watching him blink and turn his head to look around. Almost as though he expected to be somewhere else, the battered fortress and rolling plains seemed to surprise him.

Siegfried turned his head to look at her and only then seemed to be aware that he was not alone.

"You okay?" Rem asked, measuring the steps needed to close the distance between them carefully. "You sorta went away there, for a minute."

Perhaps it was self-consciousness that made him look down at himself and try to wipe some of the blood from his person. It didn't really do more than smear the stuff even more, since his clothes and armor were thoroughly soaked. Through the sticky fall of his hair Siegfried made a face, mouth twisting when he thought she couldn't see.

Maybe it was too bad that he was so tall and she so much shorter. She had a good view of his face, most of the time.

"I apologize, Master. I... I do not know what happened." Siegfried lowered his eyes. He didn't quite look ashamed, but it was close. Resigned might have been a better term. As though he expected something unpleasant to happen now, with Fafnir's defeat.

"Are _you_ okay?" She repeated, looking up at him once she was just out of arm's reach. He met her eye hesitantly, studying her expression.

Then he looked away, glancing over the splatters of blood on her uniform and over her shoulder. His throat worked, like he was swallowing back what he wanted to say. Finally, he managed, "Physically, I believe I will be. I... I am unsure about the rest. Sorry."

"No need to apologize." Rem assured. She paused, debating what to say. "We don't have to go back just yet. Let's get cleaned up first."

Relief flickered across Siegfried's otherwise stoic face, softening the look in his eyes. He didn't smile, but his shoulders did lower just a little bit. His grip on Balmung loosened. "Thank you, Master. Where shall we go?"

She reached out, slowly and gently taking his empty hand with her own. Siegfried tensed, conflicting emotions furrowing his brow as she squeezed his hand. The leather of his glove was slick and tacky, Fafnir's blood still warm enough to almost be hot. The ridges of Siegfried's gauntlet, normally harsh and sharp, were slippery enough that her fingers struggled to find purchase to wrap around his.

There was magic in dragon's blood, or so people claimed. Fafnir's had given Siegfried his invincible armor, but with a cost.

Rem held his confused stare and tried to smile, stomping down on the faint turning of her stomach as a little more of Fafnir's blood darkened her sleeve. Bit by bit Siegfried seemed to relax. He did not protest when she lightly tugged at his hand, leading him back the way they'd come hours ago to put an end to the dragon of legend. The sky remained clear, sunlight a darker gold than it had been when they'd first arrived.

She remembered this area enough to find the stream they'd come across during their mad rush to solve the singularity of Orleans. It had grown a little deeper, perhaps, since they'd been gone. It would be enough to hopefully get the worst of the blood off. Siegfried relaxed a little more when he saw the running water, quietly excusing himself from her hold on his hand so that he could strip off his gauntlets.

Rem took them, knowing that she had no hope of lifting Balmung, and helped him loosen the cloak from his shoulder.

"I sense no wyverns, Master." Siegfried murmured, looking hesitant to venture very far. "It would seem that the threat Fafnir posed is no more. Other monsters could still be around."

"I'll keep an eye out." She promised. "I've still got enough mana to fight. You do what you need to do, 'kay?"

He frowned, torn between leaving her alone and his want to get as much of the blood off of him as he could. Rem gave him a gentle push towards the water, quirking her mouth to let him know she'd be okay. Siegfried relented, picking his way upstream and she took a last look around to make sure no enemies were present before heading into the water herself.

Armor wasn't her specialty. She wasn't sure if water could make Servants' equipment rust, so she didn't dunk Siegfried's gauntlets into the stream. Getting the blood off the metal, wiping out the joints and scrubbing at the leather, it all felt a bit like an exercise in futility when she first started. But despite the mess they looked a little better when she was done. She had an easier time with his cloak, wringing it out and laying it out to dry once it wasn't nearly stained black anymore.

Her own clothes were a bit of a waste. Mashu would probably panic when they got back to Chaldea and saw the damage, expecting her to be hurt. Rem gave washing the once white uniform a token effort, digging around in the bag of holding Da Vinci had made for times such as these until she found the Mage's Association uniform she'd recently earned.

"Too bad you don't bring my Command Seals back." She muttered, pushing up the sleeves of her new shirt so they'd be out of the way. There was no response, but griping a little bit helped her feel better.

She'd just considered starting a fire when Siegfried returned, hair damp and mostly clean. He looked calmer, more centered and sure of himself when he met her eye. Balmung gleamed at his side, looking as though it had never been dirtied in the first place.

"Is all well, Master? I'm sorry for taking so long." His eyes swept over the area meticulously, briefly settling on his cloak in her arms. One corner of his mouth twitched upwards, gratitude softening his expression.

"Nothing to worry about." Rem smiled, offering him the cloak. "Thought we might want to make camp since it's almost night. In case you didn't want to go back just yet." She added carefully, hoping it wasn't a misstep on her part.

Siegfried didn't say anything for a moment, turning his cloak and clipping it back into place over his shoulder. The set of his mouth and far-off look in his eyes suggested he was thinking, weighing her offer against their duty to Chaldea. When he looked up at the sky, however, something seemed to give way inside him.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking at her as if asking permission.

Rem nodded. "It's been a while since we've seen a starry night. Once we get set up, we can talk if you want. When you're ready."

"You do not have to worry so much, Master." Siegfried uttered the words like a recitation, his bare hands looking curiously out of place at his sides.

" _You're_ my priority right now." She told him firmly, bumping his arm lightly with her fist. "We talk and we go when you're ready. No sooner."

It might have been the fading sunlight, but for a second she thought he might have flushed a little. Siegfried looked away nonetheless, the fall of his still-drying hair obscuring his expression. In a way, it was cute.

"Thank you, Master." He managed after a beat of embarrassed quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes places after Siegfried's first interlude. I know the canon dialogue and mood is very different, even cheerful to a point, but this came to mind and I went with it. Every encounter with Fafnir seems to take something out of Siegfried, or I could just be biased towards how distant and lost he looked in his flashback in Apocrypha.
> 
> Even heroes need a break and Siegfried always seems so driven by duty that I wouldn't be surprised if he neglected giving himself time to rest after huge events like this.


	15. Emiya - Kitchen Magic

Emiya froze, planting himself in the doorway and staring at the lone figure sipping coffee by the stove. Something sizzled in the pan Rem was using, lending a savory aroma to the air. He sniffed again, able to identify eggs and onions and chicken. Another, smaller, pan occupied most of Rem's attention. Every so often she would reach into it and flip its contents, unconcerned about burning her fingers.

"You're up early." He mused, stepping into the kitchen properly and making a beeline for the coffee maker. The pot was still mostly full, an empty cup ready and waiting beside it.

It was a small gesture of thoughtfulness. He appreciated it, relaxing a bit as he poured himself a portion.

"First time I've been awake before you." Rem teased, setting her cup down reaching to stir the food in the larger pan with a wooden spoon. "Feels kinda nice, even if Romani's gonna give me hell about it later."

"Couldn't sleep?" Emiya guessed, picking a spot that was close enough for him to peek into the pans. He was curious more so than worried. But he'd never caught her in the actual process of cooking and it was always interesting to see how someone conducted themselves while they were at it.

She shook her head, lowering the heat for the second pan. With two fingers she eased the tortilla she'd been flipping earlier out, adding it to a plate he hadn't noticed when he'd gone for his coffee. The pan wasn't empty for long before another tortilla was added. She checked her other pan, making sure nothing was sticking.

"I missed cooking. Thought I'd try before things got busy." Rem didn't look at him as she sprinkled something over the food. Her mouth moved but no words Emiya could hear emerged. He felt a brief pulse of mana and quirked a brow, watching her work with greater attention now.

"You infuse it with your own mana?" Emiya mused, taking a sip of his coffee. He winced, scolding himself for not blowing on it first. Besides the heat, it was stronger than he was used to.

She didn't answer at first. Two more plates joined the one beside the stove and she turned off the heat once she was satisfied everything was done.

"Abuela taught me how to cook." Rem answered, picking up her coffee cup once more. She took a sip, not minding the flavor. "All the kitchen magic I know came from her. It helps ward off a bad day." She added, seeing his confusion.

Emiya felt his mouth quirk. "Just bad days?"

"Other things too." She shrugged. "Depends on what you want. It gets more complicated as the intent changes."

He nodded, gently swirling the coffee in his cup. "Seems like a handy thing to know. Thanks for letting me observe."

She smiled, quick and teasing and a little mischievous too. "I could've kicked you out, I guess. But it's not like I would have been able to get anything done if I had. It'd be a full-time job trying to keep you out of the kitchen all on my own."

"You make me sound like a mother hen." Emiya snorted. His stomach growled, betraying him and Rem laughed.

"Help yourself. I made plenty. You'll be helping with the dishes thought." She set her cup down, giving him room to decide what all he wanted when he approached. Emiya huffed under his breath, briefly entertaining the thought of jabbing her with his elbow.


	16. Rama - Luck

It had gone so well, at the start. Between his sword, Artemis' arrows and Mashu providing defense it had seemed like nothing could get past their group. Enemies fell with relative ease and Rama felt his heart beat faster within his chest every time he met a foe blade-to-blade. Their final victory had been within reach. Orion would have his next ascension when they returned to Chaldea and Rama would finally be able to take Arjuna up on his offer of training together.

Then an arrow flew past. And he heard Mashu's cry of distress. Past that - 

\- Artemis, lifting her diminutive bow, eyes bright with rage

...and his Master crying out in pain.

That snared Rama's attention, made him turn to see what damage had been done. A sick feeling rose in his stomach, his grip on his sword painful. Worse, the link of mana connecting him to Rem wavered - just for a moment. Long enough for him to feel sick for a whole new reason.

Behind him, the soldier who'd fired the arrow met his end at Artemis' bow. Before him, where they had thought she might be safe, Rem panted in the dirt with her uniform's coat rapidly turning crimson. Protruding from the hollow of her left shoulder was the arrow he'd seen, fletching black and patchy.

He matched Mashu nearly step for step when she bolted for their Master's side, mind working. The enemies they'd faced thus far had not shown a preference for poison - but what if this one had? He knew how to tend a wound on a battlefield, so long as circumstances permitted. But poison, that would be an entirely different matter.

Artemis joined them just as Mashu was able to help Rem sit up, a low noise of sympathy rising from the goddess's throat. Orion made a hissing noise, muttering something Rama did not catch. He did not care to - unless Orion had something useful to say.

Rem's face paled when she shifted, the hand holding Mashu's white at the knuckles. She glanced at the arrow and closed her eyes, sucking in a shuddering breath. Rama felt a pang of sympathy for her as he tore a rough length of cloth from the fabric hanging around his hips. It was clean, save for the end which he tore off as well.

"Here." Folding the cloth he pressed it around the wound, mouth set in a grim line. "I'm sorry Master, but it is better to stem the blood flow now than risk leaving it. Mashu," lifting his voice sternly, he fixed the Shielder with a hard stare. "We will need to stabilize the arrow so it doesn't cause more damage."

"Understood." Mashu arranged her features into a mask of seriousness. "Can you make more bandages? I'll keep pressure on the wound."

Artemis surprised them both by offering a length of cloth from her dress. Expression stern, she pressed the fabric into Rama's hand. "Use it. Darling can't do much as he is," she deliberately ignored Orion's squawked protest, "but I don't mind helping where I can."

"Thank you." Rem managed between careful breaths. She added her hand to Mashu's own, pressing down on the darkening cloth Rama had pressed against her shoulder. "Was that... all of them?"

"I can sense no other enemies, Senpai." Mashu replied, cracks of worry showing through as she helped Rem stay still enough for Rama to tie the makeshift bandage around the arrow.

Artemis cocked her head to the side, seemingly to listen. Whatever she heard was for her own ears alone, it seemed. "There is no one else." She said at last. "Will we be going back to Chaldea?"

"We'll have to." Orion grumbled, clinging precariously to the crown of Artemis' head. "That looks deep. If the head's got poison then we need to go as soon as possible."

Rem frowned as Rama finally pulled back. "I don't _think_ I've been poisoned. Just hurts a lot." Despite that and the worried look Rama directed at her shoulder, she managed to quirk her mouth into a faint smile. "It'll make for a funny story, maybe. Didn't even see it coming."

"I am sorry, Master." Guilt churned Rama's stomach, adding a little bit of fire to the fading anger he'd felt. "I was careless. Had I been paying better attention - "

"I'm at fault too." Mashu added quietly, her expression crestfallen.

Rem nudged her with an elbow, doing the same to Rama with her knee. "Stop that. I'm not dead. We just need to get back to Chaldea. Besides," she held Rama's eye, that faint smile trying to make a reappearance. "It'll leave a cool scar."

Rama snorted, unable to help shaking his head. Together with Mashu, he helped bring their Master up to her feet.

They'd gotten lucky, this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many near misses has the master of Chaldea had, in-game? I think about that sometimes.


	17. Bonds - Chevalier d'Eon

{Bond level 0}

Chevalier's expression softened the instant they saw who had summoned them. Clad in pastel blue and pink just like Rem had seen in Orleans, Chevalier's presence alone managed to soften the too-still atmosphere of the room. They stepped out of the summoning circle with care, sheathing the rapier they held in one smooth motion. Removing their hat Chevalier dropped into a bow.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, young Master." Their soft voice carried well in the otherwise quiet room, untouched by the unwanted effect of Madness Enhancement. "One I had not dared hope for."

Lifting their head, Chevalier smiled and began to rise. "Permit me to introduce myself properly. I am Chevalier d'Eon, a Knight of the White Lily and Saber class Servant. It is my honor and joy to serve you."

"Now that's a hello." Rem teased, hands on her hips. Her smile matched d'Eon's in brightness, though it was a little bemused. "How am I ever gonna be able to top that?"

"You found a way to resolve the singularity of Orleans." Chevalier donned their hat with the same elegance they'd used to sheathe their sword. "I do not doubt my Master shall find a way to put my humble greetings to shame."

Rem laughed, closing the distance between them and hugged d'Eon tightly. "It's good to see you again. As yourself this time." She felt Chevalier pat her back and released them, amused and a little pleased to see the happiness in d'Eon's eyes.

"Marie will be glad to see you too." Rem added, tipping her head towards the door leading out into Chaldea's wide halls.

The mention of Marie set a new light of hope in d'Eon's gaze. They straightened up subtly, smile nearly so wide that it might have hurt their face.

"May I see her, Master? I would like to apologize... and to reaffirm our friendship. If that is alright." They added, sobering up a little.

"I don't think you need to apologize." Rem assured, lightly tugging on d'Eon's sleeve to coax them into following as she turned for the door. "Marie knew that you weren't yourself, back then. She'll be happy just to know that you're here."

Chevalier smiled to themselves, slowing their stride to just a second behind Rem's. "I look forward to it, Master."

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"I didn't think Chevalier would be such an energetic person." Roman mused, blowing into his mug of coffee. He'd already burned his tongue twice. A third time would just be silly - though Da Vinci would probably have other words for it.

Rem added a little more cream to her own cup, stirring it gently. "They're very practical. It's Marie that really energizes them, I think. Not like I can blame d'Eon, it's hard to tell Marie 'no' in general."

"The two of them are really good friends, aren't they?" Roman smiled, bringing his cup up to his lips. Rem started to protest, the words almost out of her mouth when Roman sputtered. He held the cup away from himself like it was poisoned, fanning his red tongue with his other hand.

"You should've waited." Rem patted his shoulder lightly, drinking her own coffee with little trouble. "Da Vinci set the temperature on the coffee maker higher than normal, remember? Two minutes, blow on it, then you can drink it."

Roman grumbled something under his breath, avoiding any excess movement with his jaw so he didn't bite his tongue. He looked slightly pitiful hunched over, tongue poking out of his mouth and his nose wrinkled in distaste. Rem decided to take pity on him, offering the can of whipped cream she'd swiped from the fridge.

"It'll take some of the heat off." She promised, quirking a brow at his disbelieving look. "Makes the coffee smooth too. Just don't down the whole thing, okay? Stuff's hard to get a hold of."

Roman bobbed his head and accepted the can with a hopeful look on his face. The sound of whipped cream being deployed from the nozzle was loud in the quiet of his office and soon enough he had a small pile of it swimming in his cup. Stirring it in, Roman let out a relieved sigh after he'd sipped from it.

"Where are you off to?" He asked, staring at her when she headed for the door.

"Breakfast with Marie." Rem raised her cup in a blind toast. "Royal invitation. d'Eon's waiting outside."

He pouted, slouching in his seat. As the door closed after her he muttered, "Could've offered to bring me something back..."

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"There." d'Eon sighed happily, stepping back. "It is done."

Rem turned her head to look, brows lifting as she examined the sling pinning her arm in place. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, true. But it was much better than just let letting her arm hang at her side until their group could return to Chaldea. She looked up, offering d'Eon a sincere smile.

"Thanks. It doesn't hurt near as much now." She wiggled her fingers to test their circulation. It made her wrist ache something awful, but her fingers were able to move.

"Should we encounter more Berserkers I would appreciate it if you did not put yourself in harm's way, Master." Chevalier's sternness was hard to miss. Their mouth turned downwards and the gloved hand on the pommel of their sword tightened around it. "We Servants may face battle and not fear death overmuch - but you are still human, Master."

Rem looked away, adjusting the edge of her sling. "I know. But I don't want to be on the back line all the time. That's not really fair to you, is it?"

"War is not fair." d'Eon said softly. "No one can make it so. But we can look out for one another, it is true." They reached out and gently set a hand on Rem's shoulder.

"Is that a fair compromise?" d'Eon asked, looking hopeful.

Rem quirked her mouth, covering d'Eon's hand with her good one and squeezing it. "Yeah. Til I do something else that's stupid, at least."

* * *

{Bond level 3}

"Is there a reason why we have so many dumplings all of a sudden?" Rem nodded her head towards the assortment of crates taking up a good bit of the kitchen's floor space. She recognized the lettering on the crates themselves but couldn't read it.

d'Eon had the good grace to look somewhat apologetic as they lightly coughed into their fist. "It was Queen Marie's idea, Master. She - _we_ \- thought that it might be a pleasant change of pace for those who do not get to enjoy such things often."

"But three tons?" Lifting a brow, Rem sent a sidelong glance at d'Eon. It wasn't too surprising that a little bit of pink had risen to Chevalier's cheeks. But it was somewhat obvious that they didn't necessarily feel _bad_ about having a hand in this... _surprise_.

"There are quite a few Servants who enjoy eating simply for the pleasure of it." d'Eon reminded her gently, prim and proper in all ways except the faint upward twitch of their mouth. "This ought to last a while, I should think."

Rem couldn't deny that the extra supplies would probably help pad out Chaldea's resources for a while. It would take some of the pressure off of Emiya and Boudica for sure, though she couldn't be certain how the two most influential chefs might react to this unforeseen situation. Marie and Mozart were likely to be very happy though - which probably made Chevalier happy too.

"Just let me know beforehand the next time, okay?" She asks, trying and failing to hide a smile. "I thought Da Vinci's eyes were going to pop out of her head."

"Of course, Master." d'Eon smiles back, amused and pleased all at once.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

d'Eon's rapier looked tiny compared to Balmung. Almost like a child's toy. But they still managed to fend Siegfried off, their footwork giving them just a thin edge over the taller Saber's size. Watching them was amazing - and a little frightening. Both were powerful Servants in their own right and every time Siegfried gained the upper hand Rem thought her own nervousness picked up a little.

But this was a friendly spar, from what she'd been told. Neither d'Eon or Siegfried would ever deliberately go out of their way to hurt a comrade. Still, Rem found her shoulders tensing every time Balmung came a bit too close to scoring a hit. Perhaps it was a little unfair that Siegfried had been granted invincibility from being doused in Fafnir's blood - but that was something beyond his control and d'Eon did not seem to mind.

If anything they seemed to be having fun.

"If the use of Noble Phantasms were allowed, this might have been solved rather quickly." Karna mused. Rem did her best not to jump. She wasn't sure when he'd settled in beside her. But when she looked up Karna only cocked his head, watching Siegfried hide a smile as he cut off d'Eon's attempt at circling him.

"Yet it seems that each of them prefer it this way." He surmised, sounding pleased.

Rem bumped Karna's knee with her own. "I don't think anyone would be happy if the roof came down on our heads. Let them have their fun."

"Ah." Karna hummed, unblinking gaze focused on the fight. "I have no plans to interfere."

That wasn't what she'd meant, but Rem took it in stride anyway. d'Eon let out a whoop of laughter, their hat rolling away from them after a quick duck to avoid Balmung. Marie broke into a run chasing after it, laughing as she did.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

"Cu Chulainn tells me that you are afraid of horses, Master." d'Eon gave the mare beside them a gentle pat on the neck, murmuring softly to it. They smiled, "I can teach you to ride, if that is the issue."

Rem sized up the dun mare with a frown, shooting a glare at their group's resident Caster. Of course he did nothing but snicker, the bastard, but she hadn't really expected him to apologize.

"Cu Chulainn needs to keep his mouth shut if he knows what's good for him." She said, loudly enough that he could hear. What she got in return was a sharp toothed smile and an irreverent waggle of his fingers.

d'Eon hid their amusement while she tried to threaten Caster into silence, shaking their head when Cu's laughter echoed across their camp.

"I give you my word that no harm will come to you, Master." d'Eon assured once Rem gave up on getting back at Cu Chulainn. "But if you are not comfortable, I will not press."

Rem glanced at the horse, shifting her weight. "I appreciate it. I really do. But that's a bridge I'm not ready to cross, I think."

d'Eon only nodded, petting the horse's muzzle with a gentle hand.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

"Is it possible for you to be an Assassin?" Rem digs her spoon into her ice cream, intent on digging out the chunk of fudge she'd glimpsed. d'Eon watches her do it with a faint smile, one leg crossed over the other and a spoon of their own in their mouth.

Normally they would not indulge so freely, unless in the company of Marie. But this was a pleasant way to spend an afternoon - tucking themselves away from bright sunlight and watching Chaldea's staff and servants enjoy themselves for a change. d'Eon shifted in their seat, turning Rem's question around in their mind.

"I would not be surprised, if I may be allowed to answer honestly." They studied their own cup of ice cream, debating their next method of attack. "I did a great deal of work for the Royal Family. Sabotage, subterfuge, and so on. But I always held on to my sense of honor. It is my pride as a knight."

"So a knightly Assassin?" Rem teased, smiling around her spoon. d'Eon laughed, the sound bright and lovely.

They helped themselves to another spoonful of ice cream, still smiling. "Perhaps so. I have never been summoned under that class before, to my knowledge. It would be an intriguing thing, if it were to happen."

"You never know." Rem let her spoon ease into her empty cup. "But I have to admit it's nice to have you as a Saber. A defensive one too."

"I shall do all that I can to protect you." d'Eon promised. They looked far too regal with their tiny spoon in hand, a solemn and gentle smile curving their mouth. "Always."

Rem tucked a bit of loose hair behind her ear, cheeks warm. Maybe one day it would be possible to keep a straight face when d'Eon dropped these moments into their conversations. Declarations of loyalty and love. Of endless support.

"I know." She managed, scratching at her cheek. "But that goes both ways too. It's not fair to you if you have to do all the heavy lifting."

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"Move your feet, Master." d'Eon reminded her firmly, blocking the awkward swipe of her borrowed blade with ease. "You will make no progress if you simply plant yourself and do not adapt."

As if to emphasize the point d'Eon darted forward, scoring hit after hit as Rem tried to backpedal without success. She dropped her blade with a hiss, wrist smarting from the restrained blow of d'Eon's sword. It clattered loudly when it made contact with the floor and Rem was once again glad that no one was around to watch.

She shook her hand carefully, frowning through the wince. "Sorry."

"You are learning." d'Eon straightened up, blade angled down at their side in a neutral position. "There is no need to apologize."

Their face softened and they added, "It took several years before I possessed any skill with a sword. You have not had the time to dedicate yourself as I did."

Giving her wrist a careful roll, Rem quietly admitted to herself that it would probably be easier to just stick with mystic codes. But, for all fencing had done a good job kicking her in the butt it was another way to spend time with d'Eon. And it got her away from Dr. Roman's office for a little bit.

"You make it look easy." Rem stooped to collect her fallen weapon, grimacing as she straightened.

"Time and practice, Master." d'Eon's eyes curved. "Should you wish to continue, I have no doubt that you can improve."

"It's alright to tell me that I suck, d'Eon." Rem told them amusedly. Once the initial sting passed, it _was_ a little funny. "I promise not to take it personally."

d'Eon only shook their head and hid a smile. Rem let herself be coaxed back into form, watching the way d'Eon moved and tried to copy their flawless grace.

She'd be meeting Dr. Roman with a few extra bruises later, but it was worth it.

* * *

{Bond level 8}

In between missions and singularities, there were a few ways to occupy one's own time. A good many of the Servants formed a sort of group with others they got along with, picking rooms to meet in so they could lounge and talk. It was no secret that d'Eon themselves preferred the company of their countrymen and women. Though now a Servant, there was still a sense of nostalgic joy in being able to spend time with Marie as a friend.

It might have helped that inevitable arguments between Sanson and Amadeus were entertaining, though d'Eon would never say so aloud.

Still, they could not find it in themselves to deny that being alone had it's merits as well. _Finding_ space to enjoy solitude was something of a challenge, since Chaldea was only so big. But Rem had offered her room for such a purpose, on the grounds that if she weren't there then nobody else tended to go in. It was a fairly well-respected rule that no one touched their Master's things or intruded on her personal space unless invited.

d'Eon found it something of a relief now, closing the door behind themselves with a sigh. It was quiet, peaceful in a way that the rest of Chaldea was not and they were grateful to be trusted with such a sanctuary.

Perhaps it was something left over from their days as a spy for the Royal Family that led them into looking around. It would have been a lie to deny their own curiosity, of course. But their gaze moved with purpose and their fingers with exceptional care, examining what things Rem had left out in the hopes of learning something about their Master.

It was not much and d'Eon did not delve into the closet or drawers of the desk to look for anything else. The most prominent item they noticed was a collection of books haphazardly stacked on one side of the desk. Tilting their head, d'Eon read the titles slowly.

History, mostly. A thick volume of Andersen's fairy tales was sandwiched between the _Mahabharata_ and _The Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde_. On top of that were loose papers, the topmost covered in shorthand notes.

Along the top of the desk were bottles no bigger than d'Eon's thumb, capped with cork and bearing a few cuttings of plants inside. At the left end was a photograph starting to show its age. An older woman stared out from the frame with sharp eyes, graying hair pulled back into a bun.

d'Eon stepped back, turning away from the desk with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

The room still looked too bare in their opinion, for all Rem's presence could be felt in the silence. Something would have to be done about that, d'Eon mused as they settled down on the edge of the bed.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"You got me a dress?" Rem held the garment carefully in her hands, as though she expected it to break or disappear. "Where'd you find it?"

d'Eon studied her face, hoping that past the puzzlement and awe there might be something positive. They folded their hands in their lap to quell any nervousness.

"Marseille." d'Eon admitted. "When we last visited for supplies. I took a guess at your size... please forgive me for not asking first."

Rem ran her thumb over the pattern of the cloth, her expression indecipherable. "You didn't have to. I mean, it's very pretty don't get me wrong but..."

"Do you not like it?" d'Eon asked softly. They could accept that, if it happened to be the answer. Perhaps the color was wrong or the pattern too flashy. It might be that Rem preferred a different style of dress than what d'Eon was used to.

They could always ask and use that information for the future.

"No, it's..." Rem hesitated. She was smiling very faintly. "I haven't worn a dress in a long time, come to think of it."

Relief swelled up inside d'Eon's chest, making them relax in their seat. They smiled, unable to help themselves.

"I am somewhat familiar with that feeling." They confessed. "It has been years since I donned a dress, but I was fond of them for a time. I'd noticed that you had very little that was not in some way connected with Chaldea to call your own, so..."

d'Eon hesitated. "Forgive me, Master, if I was too bold. It only seemed a shame that you should have so little reward in exchange for all that you have done."

"You don't know bold until Shakespeare busts into your room in the middle of the night to read you his latest sonnet." Rem mused as she gently draped the dress over her arm. She laughed at the look on d'Eon's face.

"Don't worry. He doesn't do that too often."

d'Eon gave themselves a little shake, re-evaluating their initial assessment of Shakespeare's character. "I should hope not. But you are free to ask that I assist in throwing him out the next time he does."

"I'll think about it." Rem promised. She closed the distance between them, stooping to peck d'Eon's cheek. "Thank you for the dress. I don't know when I'll get the chance to wear it, but I appreciate the thought."

"I understand." Before she could pull away d'Eon returned Rem's peck with one of their own. They smiled. "Try it on at the very least to make sure it fits. Perhaps one day I shall don a dress as well and join you."

Rem grinned, looking as though she liked the idea already. "I'm game if you are."

"In private then." d'Eon chuckled. "Just between us."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

"I didn't know a charm spell could be used that way." Rem admitted, watching Mozart continue his attempt at serenading a teacup. It was hilarious - and a little worrisome. But d'Eon showed no signs of being concerned about what was going on and Rem didn't mind following their example.

"A useful application." d'Eon mused as they added a spoonful of sugar to their breakfast tea. "He is easier to manage this way, I've found."

Sanson rolled his eyes, looking partly exasperated as Mozart raised his voice an octave to continue his singing. Marie stifled a giggle behind her hand, the light in her eyes bright and carefree. Both of them seemed to be used to this. Or at least accosted to it enough to not let it get in the way of their breakfast. 

Rem watched Mozart deflate in his seat when his latest attempt at impressing the cup went unanswered. He was pouting. Actually pouting.

"Are we sure that he won't hurt himself?" She asked mildly. "If he breaks that he might accidentally cut himself."

"He'll be fine." d'Eon assured, nudging another confection towards Rem's plate. "You have my word as a Knight of the White Lily."

Rem nodded, still watching the composer just in case. "Mind if I take some of this back with me? I know someone who'd appreciate the sweets."


	18. Arjuna - Fragile Intimacy

"Arjuna?" Rem stares at his hands. "Why are you always wearing gloves?" It's an innocent question, in her mind. One that has come and gone several times before now - something she has always meant to ask and just never gotten around to it. Until now.

For his part Arjuna meets her question with a slow blink of surprise, glancing down at his hands as if to inspect them for some flaw. He does that often. Making sure that no matter what he is without blemish, in appearance and behavior. That's something she has wondered about too. It seems exhausting but she's never once heard Arjuna complain.

"They are my gloves, Master." Arjuna replies at last, voice soft and faintly bemused. "I have worn them for a long time. The habit is still with me, I suppose."

He does not lower his hands, arms still crooked at the elbow. His fingers curl a little and it makes the white silk of his gloves wrinkle. "Do they bother you, Master?"

If she's honest, the answer is no. Rem has only ever seen Arjuna with his gloves on and they've become an almost permanent fixture of him in her mind. From holding his hand she knows that each glove is smooth to the touch, warm from constant contact with Arjuna's skin. When she's held his hand to exchange mana they've been almost comforting - something that has been planted in her brain as an indicator of Arjuna's steadfast presence.

Still, now that she's given voice to her curiosity she can't quite help herself.

"They don't." She assures him. Her own hand reaches out and stops just shy of touching him, hovering. "May I?"

Arjuna's eyes are dark when he studies her. In bright sunlight, out in the open, his eyes look brown. Here, in her room at Chaldea, she thinks they look closer to black. Both suit him, really. He's just lovely all around.

"If that is your wish." Arjuna relaxes his hand. There is a vague uncertainty in his otherwise smooth voice. Like he's not entirely sure what she is asking of him or if he should refuse.

Well, the confusion goes both ways since Rem only has a hazy idea in mind when she begins to carefully tug at the fingertips of his glove. Easing them loose she gently slides the silk away from his skin, surprised that he does not stop her when the veins in his wrist become exposed. The idea's an odd one - if asked Rem wouldn't be able to say _why_ she thought he might stop her there, but it's a feeling she definitely has.

Arjuna draws in a subtle breath once his glove slides free. His fingers twitch, beginning to curl in on themselves before he stops them. Rem drapes the glove over her lap. If he wants it back he will have to grab for it. He tenses when she cradles his hand but makes no move to draw back. Slowly, gently, Rem eases his fingers back so she can look at his palm.

He's darker than her, the skin of his palm warm and rough under her curious fingers. Now that she's able to look Rem can see scars here and there on Arjuna's skin, rendered faint with age. Maybe the Grail's magic as well - but that's just a guess. She stops her exploration at the curve of his wrist, feeling Arjuna tense the closer her fingers get to the edge of his sleeve.

"There is nothing special to see, Master." Arjuna tells her quietly, his other hand lightly closing around her wrist.

Rem lifts her head to look at him, fingers gently tracing the pulse in his wrist. The beat of his heart is steady except for a tiny flutter. When she feels it she smiles, brushes her fingers over the spot again to sooth the faint tremble he can't quite suppress.

"I think you're plenty special." She tells him. "A few scars aren't going to change that." 

Arjuna's too hard on himself sometimes. Trying too hard to be some immaculate thing.

As it is he cannot seem to hold her gaze after she says that. Arjuna looks away, his hand briefly tightening around her wrist. It doesn't hurt - far from it. But it's a reaction and Arjuna does not often show those so plainly.

"You humble me." He says at last, eyes still low. Then he adds, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

She hadn't really been looking for anything specific. But now she has him, can cover his palm with her own and twine their fingers together. Skin to skin, Rem can feel his callouses and how they brush against her own. It's nice. And it makes him a little closer to human in her mind.

"You've got pretty hands." Rem smiles, lightly squeezing his hand. "Seems like a shame to keep them covered up all the time."

Seated so close, she can see the color in his cheeks darken. Arjuna's mouth moves, uncertain if it wants to smile or frown. He settles for a neutral in-between, lowering his lashes and ducking his head the faintest bit to preserve his dignity. It's a little silly to watch - surely he'd gotten better compliments in his mortal life, from more important people.

But it's also cute to watch the Blessed Hero squirm in pleased embarrassment.

"You are too kind, Master." Arjuna turns his wrist in her grasp, gently pulling away. He's had enough of physical contact, it seems. Rem understands in her own sort of way. If it's something he's not used to then she won't push him too much.

"Nah, I just like your hands." Rem chuckles, leaning back to give him space. He sneaks a glance at her, not seeming to know how to react. She smiles, shrugging. "What? They're nicer than mine."

Arjuna's mouth twists, almost pulling into a smile. He covers it with his hand, the gloved one, before it can fully form. A part of her is disappointed. He always tried to hide his smiles before anyone could see them.

Maybe one day she'd be able to get around that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to keep things pretty even between all the characters so far. A chapter for bond levels, then a more casual chapter. But this nipped at me and I wanted to put it here before I forgot.
> 
> Also wanted to put something out here because there might be a bit of a wait between longer chapters. I might make smaller scenes like this more common, depending. Hope you enjoy :)


	19. Bonds - Francis Drake

{Bond level 0}

"Francis Drake, Captain of the Golden Hind. Rider class Servant." Drake cocked her head, a hand on her hip as she studied Rem. A smile tugged at the corner of Drake's mouth, somewhat ruining her attempt at looking serious. "I hope we can get along."

Rem offered Drake her hand, grinning as the pirate glanced at it before accepting the handshake. "I don't see why not. There's hardly ever a dull moment here, if you want the truth. I'm sure you'll fit right in."

"Turbulent seas, is it?" Drake quirked a brow, her smile sharpening. "I know somethin' of that. Give me the wheel and I'll run a tight ship for you, Master."

"Let's start with the basics first." Rem mused, still smiling. I'll show you around and introduce you to everyone."

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"There any booze around here?" Drake glanced around the cafeteria appraisingly, disappointment flickering across her face. "I seen plenty of beauties in this place but nothing to celebrate with. Hard as you all work, seems like you ought to get some reward out of it."

"You could probably find some if you really looked." Boudica mused, inspecting her plate thoughtfully. "But generally it is considered prudent not to drink when one aims to save the world."

Boudica looked up as Drake laughed, the sound echoing in the cafeteria. A few of the other Servants turned to look, most notably the young Jack. In her moment of inattention Drake snared a portion of lamb off of Boudica's plate. She ate it quickly, licking sauce from her fingers without care for how she looked. The urge to scold her rose up in Boudica's chest, though she settled for pulling her food closer so that further assault wouldn't be so easy.

"But you can't deny that a drink every once in a while doesn't calm the spirits and raise morale." Drake countered, satisfied. "If all of use went about with nothing but dark thoughts and almost impossible goals we'd start dropping like flies."

There was a point to that logic, Boudica was willing to concede. But only so much of one.

"We have other ways of raising morale around here." She confessed. "Though I can't deny that a drink might lift some hearts if it were available. Given some of the personalities here it might be better to err on the side of caution. We must look out for one another, nonetheless."

"Aye." Drake agreed, leaning back. "You can't run a vessel if you're crew's divided. You're a wise woman."

Boudica laughed, surprising herself in doing so. "That's not going to get you more of my lunch. You can get your own from Emiya just like everyone else."

"Worth a shot." Drake winked at her before standing, heading up to the front of the cafeteria with a rustle of her coat.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"Pity these aren't real gold or jewels." Turning the Rider's gem in her hand, Drake shook her head. "Could make a fortune off just one if you put it to the right market."

Rem considered it, pausing in sorting the pile of ascension materials they'd collected. So far it was more Rider materials than anything else. Handy, of course, because it meant Drake would be able to receive a boost in her skills. She picked up a stone engraved with an arrow, surprised by the smoothness of it under her fingers.

"Guess you could." The thing had a decent weight to it, Rem admitted to herself. "I'm not sure how much they'd be worth though. If it's the tiny ones, someone might decide they were candy and try to eat one."

Drake snorted, tossing the gem back into the pile. It caused a brief cascade to occur, decorating the table in shimmering colors.

"Our win, right?" She mused. "We could cut the purse of the poor fool and take back the stone once he was done choking on it."

* * *

{Bond level 3}

"You think too much about the long term." Sweeping up the scattered cards with one hand Drake began to shuffle the deck once more. Across the table David frowned, idly drumming his fingers. On each of their right sides was a pile of glittering quartz - the peculiar stuff that their Master used to pay Da Vinci for her help with ascensions.

Drake dealt a hand for each of them, every flick of her fingers quick and sure. "If you stop and try considering every little detail you'll never get anywhere."

David gathered up his cards without looking at what they were. "But it is important to have a sound infrastructure if you want to keep your income steady. If you'd had a plan then you wouldn't have needed to worry as much between visits to port."

A scoff answered him, Drake's eyes darkening as her mouth twisted. She tossed down a card from her hand, selecting another from the deck.

"You can't load down a ship too much or it'll sink under you." Scowling at the newest addition to her hand she continued. "And economics at sea isn't the same as on land. You were a king - principles like yours wouldn't have gotten you killed before long."

"Perhaps so." David hummed, taking a look at his hand at last. He didn't smile, only kept the cards folded close to his chest.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

"Imagine if you could turn this place into a ship." Drake sighed, peering out the window with a trace of longing. "I bet there's plenty to see here, at the end of the world."

Outside Chaldea, the snowstorm continued. Bullet-fast flakes of white whirled by. Anything that had managed to remain uncovered was hardly so lucky this time. Even with Drake's eyesight she could hardly make out the mountains that were supposed to be near the facility. Suppressing a shudder she looked away. Endless blankness held no interest to her. If any animal could survive such conditions it wouldn't be foolish enough to bumbling around where something like a human could spot it.

"You would need something to break through the ice, wouldn't you?" Rem asked, arms wrapped around herself. She looked as though someone had wrapped a torn sail around her, for all the blanket around her shoulders hung awkwardly and trailed on the ground.

"Aye." Drake scratched at an itch behind her ear. "A ram would do it, so long as it were reinforced. Steel might do it. Or we could rely on dragon scale like before." Pushing aside her misgivings about the isolation and the cold Drake flashed Rem a smile. "That worked well enough against the Argo. A blizzard's different though. It serves no good to just focus on the ram and leave the hull as plain wood."

Rem nodded, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. She glanced at the snow outside and shivered. "Suppose if you stare long enough it might look like something close to the sea."

"Nah." Drake brushed aside the comment, pushing off the wall to stand up straight. "It's not the same."

* * *

{Bond level 5}

Without the sun overhead the seas around them turned dark. A few of the crewmen held on to what they could as another wave jostled the ship, murmuring to themselves and exchanging glances. Drake studied the sky above them and then the water, taking in the wind and how come of the waves were capped with white. Her expression hardened. Turning, she crossed the length of the deck and shouldered the helmsman out of the way.

Rem glanced Drake's way as she tried to keep her balance, stomach roiling as the ship rocked. It hadn't been this bad when Nero had steered the ship before. Reckless and fast enough to defy the laws of physics, yes. But not quite like this.

When the helmsman tried to argue with Drake she pointed one of her guns in his face, seizing the wheel with her other hand.

"I know these waters." Drake fixed her eyes on the horizon, seriousness fading into the beginnings of a mad grin. "Get yourself to a place where you won't be a nuisance, why don't you? I've steered through worse storms than this."

Between the gun and the shine of a challenge in Drake's eyes, the helmsman faltered. To the rest of the crew, including Rem herself, Drake raised her voice to a bellow.

"Tie yourselves to something or hold on!"

That was all the warning they were given as the ship's prow began to turn, facing the darkest patch of clouds. Rem swallowed as the deck broke out into a mess of controlled chaos and stumbled to do as told. It wasn't quite like the maelstrom that Drake had guided her group through in Okeanos. But a storm at sea, she'd learned, could quickly become worse than anyone had previously thought.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

_"Come on then!"_ Drake's laughter carried eerily in the storm, followed by the resounding _crack_ of gunfire. Rain plastered her hair against her skin, stinging where it struck. Even with poor visibility she continued to laugh, charging at the translucent figures attempting to make their way towards the wheel.

Ushiwakamaru fared slightly better than the last member of their team, hopping between ghosts and bringing her sword down without mercy. Billy muttered a curse to himself, shoving wet hair out of his eyes and taking aim at one enemy that crept too close. Whether the shot connected or not couldn't be determined as a wave rocked the ship.

"Don't you worry about me!" Drake pushed Rem back, opening fire on a skeleton that looked as though it had crawled up from the depths below them. "Go on and help the lad!"

Before Rem could open her mouth Drake was gone, balance seemingly no issue as she charged once again. She watched Drake kick her opponent down, then swayed over to where Billy clung to his perch. Generously he wound an arm around her, ducking his head in thanks when Rem pressed a healing spell to his wounds.

"Like a whirlwind isn't she?" He laughed, jerking his chin towards Drake.

"Something like that." Rem had to raise her voice to be heard over the clap of thunder that broke out, wincing at the sound and yet glad that it masked the bark of Billy's gun.

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"The Shaped Isle, huh?" Sand clung to the underside of her boots, weighing her steps as she paced the beach. For the moment it was peaceful - no sign of any monsters pampered by a goddess. Drake tugged the brim of her hat down to shade her eyes, smirking.

"Not a bad place. Could've used an island like this during my voyages."

Euryale scoffed, gown fluttering in the warm wind. "My useless sister would have taken care of you and your crew."

She scowled as Drake laughed, the sound warm and deep. It carried easily along the beach. If there were any monsters, they might be attracted to the noise. Not that Drake minded. Far from it, actually.

"It'd be interesting to fight a goddess." Drake set her hands on her hips, a broad grin spreading across her face. "Not sure what I'd do if I won... maybe raid whatever treasure you lot gathered and spend it in the first port I came across?"

Euryale's shoulders stiffened. She drew herself up to her full height - hardly impressive when one considered Drake's towering figure. Still, the look of rage taking over Euryale's face was something that gave most pause.

"That's enough." Rem cut them off, picking her way up the beach. "Euryale, you said you sensed your sister here?"

It wasn't enough to completely calm Euryale down. Or wipe the smirk from Drake's face. But it kept them from going at each other and that was what counted.

* * *

{Bond level 8}

If there was one thing that always managed to make Drake smile, it was treasure. Gold, jewels, spices. Less so priceless artifacts, but she would take those as well rather than go empty handed after a venture. Her excitement could be infectious, leading even Mashu into a few giggles of joy. Now that the threat of undead soldiers and phantasmal beasts was gone, Rem almost felt like joining them.

"There's no better contract agreement than this." Drake chuckled, pushing a goblet into Rem's hands. A heavy thing, even without the coins stuffed into it. "You give me the order, I fight. We take our cut and everyone's happy. Right?"

Drake's laughter bounced off the walls, echoing back to them strangely.

"With all of this Chaldea wouldn't have to worry about funding at all..." Mashu tentatively raked a hand through a chest Drake had kicked open, peering curiously at the coins inside. Her expression turned wistful and she let the coins drop.

"Not that there's anyone around to worry about that now..."

Rem dug into the goblet, fishing out a coin and tossing it in the air. She caught it and curled her fingers tightly over it. "You never know. Once we're done Dr. Roman will have to attend every budget meeting in the world. He'll complain about it and say he's no good with that kind of thing."

Dropping the coin back into the goblet Rem knelt beside Mashu, rubbing the spot between Mashu's shoulders. "And we'll be there to help him. Cause we've been through too much bullshit together to rest on our laurels."

Mashu blinked, surprised, and chuckled softly into her fist.

"You're right, Senpai. I look forward to that."

"Hey!" Drake called, frowning. "No sentimental talk over my treasure!"

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"I'd like to change my outfit soon." Drake mused, tugging on the lapel of her coat. "This is getting a little too familiar for my tastes." She turned, analyzing her reflection in Rem's mirror.

"You just ascended last week." Rem reminded her mildly, tapping on the screen of her tablet. She didn't look up as Drake posed again, this time examining her back. "And you were pretty happy with that."

Drake rolled her eyes, letting the heavy length of her hair fall to cover her back. "Nice to change things up every once in a while though. Wearing the same thing all the time gets boring, doesn't it?"

Rem pretended to ignore her, scanning the file on their most recent enemy encounters. Werewolves weren't necessarily surprising anymore, but it was worrisome when they started changing up their roles. She'd need to reshuffle the team lineup to avoid running into three groups of berserkers at once.

Her focus dissolved when Drake snatched the tablet out of her hand, holding it up where she couldn't reach.

"Less work." Drake groused, narrowing her eyes. "Staring at this thing too long makes you like one of those shufflers I hate. All dead-eyed."

"Says the pirate who'll throw herself into any task she can." Rem pushed herself up, making a grab for the tablet. "Give that back and I'll see about doing another run so you can get your new outfit."

Drake pushed her back with a hand, smirking. "Not a chance. We're going out there and we are going to do something fun until you can't focus on bloody work anymore."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

It was not at all what she expected - to suddenly be lifted off her feet and pulled into a sudden kiss. Rem balled her hands up in the lapels of Drake's new coat, biting down on Drake's lip when the pirate tried to nudge her mouth open. Drake tasted like sea salt and alcohol. She drew back with a deep laugh, one arm secure around Rem's waist.

"Knew you had a spark in there somewhere." Grinning, Drake set Rem down on the deck. In her other hand was the Grail, brilliantly golden and freshly won. She held it up for Rem to see, satisfied with their victory.

"Sure you don't want to be a pirate? I might be long dead, but nothing beats having someone who's fought demons and whatnot on their crew." 

Rem wiped at her mouth, then reached for the Grail. Drake let it go but did not step back or release her hold on Rem.

"I'm already a pirate." She countered, holding the Grail close. "Sort of. We go around the world and across eras to take things. If that's not piracy then maybe I've got the definition wrong."

Above her head Drake snorted. "Too much sentimental nonsense in you yet. If you were a real pirate it wouldn't matter where you go or what you take."

"Well in that case," Rem eased her free arm around Drake's back, lifting a pistol from its holster. She tapped the butt of the gun against Drake's nose. "I'm taking this."

She ducked away from Drake, turning in the taller woman's loosened hold. Drake dove for her, missing only because the ship suddenly rocked beneath their feet.

"Oy! Give that back!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait. I'll try and do better. May start posting shorter interactions in-between bond related chapters so there's less of a delay. Take care of yourselves, everyone.


	20. Karna - Boon

"It looks heavy." Rem mused, carefully tucking wayward strands of white hair behind Karna's ear. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, keeping still so that his kundala did not swing and bump against her fingers. If he minded her being so close he showed no sign of it.

"Is that what you think, Master?" Karna finally shifted to better see her expression. When she nodded Karna tipped his head to the side, considering. He'd worn it all his life, save for once. The weight of the kundala had long faded into the background for him.

Still, she looked curious about it.

"It is heavier than the earrings you wear." He ventured at last, hoping that his attempt at conversation was adequate. It was still difficult to measure out what he wanted to say - to her, to anyone - and how it ought to be said. Raising a hand Karna felt for where the clasp touched his ear, the sensation a reminder of just how blessed he was.

"I have always had this." Karna told her softly, eyes distant. "Ever since Mother Kunti gave birth to me. A gift from my father. Do you want it?" He asked, suddenly focused on the present again. On her.

Rem shook her head. "Nah. That's special to you, right? Proof of your divinity and lineage and all that. I wouldn't take that from you."

She reached up and covered the hand he cradled his kundala in with her own, careful of the golden lines tracing his skin.

"Besides," Rem added, the look in her eyes something close to sad. "You gave that up once already. Anyone asking you twice would just be cruel."

Karna said nothing for a moment, studying her. Measuring her words and the truth in them. If his master truly desired something he would do his best to give it. But he could find no falsehood in her statement. She was being honest in claiming that his natural armor held no appeal to her as a possession.

"I would give it." He said anyway, turning his hand so that he could hold hers instead. "If you asked."

"I know you would." Rem's fingers tightened around his own. She had no fear of the sharpened claws at the ends of his fingers. "Cause you're too generous, even when you're an ass."

Her mouth curled up as she said it. Karna allowed himself to be selfish enough to drink in the sight. His face softened and he gently coaxed her hand open so he could guide it up to the kundala.

It wouldn't be the same as wearing it, of course. But this way she could feel the crystallized sunlight for herself and take note of its weight if she wanted to. At first she hesitated. Then her fingers crept over the thin chain attached to the earring, brushing over the lobe of his ear before easing down to where the heavy disc hung. Turning his head Karna offered what he could of a better angle to study the pattern on his kundala, not caring that it bared his throat.

She'd already seen the scar underneath his spiked collar. Touched the evidence of Arjuna's victory with hands as gentle as a breeze, only to tuck his head against her chest a moment later.

He had nothing to hide.

"It's pretty." Rem murmured at last. Releasing the kundala she instead eased her fingers into his hair, bringing him close so that their foreheads touched. "Thank you."

So close, Karna could make out the lighter shades of brown in her eyes; just shy of true gold.

"For what?" He blinked, slowly, because she'd mentioned his long pauses without doing so could be unnerving. "I have not done anything, Master."

"Sure you have." Drawing back a little, Rem bumped their foreheads gently before releasing him. She leaned back with a smile, amused. "You just don't realize it. That's okay."

He didn't quite understand. But it was enough to nod and perhaps reach out to link their hands again.


	21. Kid Gil - Leisure Land

Cramped darkness gave way to brilliant light and Florence had to squint as she was flung high into the air, momentum making the blood in her ears rush. She squeezed the handles on the intertube as Lancer Alter sucked in a breath as they hurtled towards the water. Making contact, a huge splash doused everyone in the immediate vicinity and filled the air with surprised cries and cheerful whoops of laughter.

Florence laughed along with them, leaning back against Artoria in her mirth. The bearer of Rhongomynyad chuckled, picking some of Florence's loose hair from her cheek as their hearts tried to settle back into a normal rhythm. It took some effort even with the two of them to angle the intertube back towards the exit of the pool. It tips, at one point, and anyone who might have been watching knew better than to comment about Lancer Alter pulling Florence close.

On the other side of the park Billy took great aim in surprising Mordred with a spray of water down his back, ducking behind the adjustable water gun to avoid a similar fate. By some convenient stroke of luck or very good timing it was Tristan who caught the chilly spray - directly in the face. Billy smothered a laugh behind his hand, prepared to flee as Mordred raised his voice to berate Tristan for getting in the way.

Tristan, dripping wet, slowly opened his eyes.

* * *

"Looks like everyone's enjoying themselves." Rem mused with pleasure, stirring the drink she'd ordered with the orange curly straw it had come with. It'd been a relief to learn that every beverage offered was nonalcoholic so she wouldn't have to worry about the possibility of inebriated Servants clashing.

Gil swung his legs proudly, smiling down at the groups running around on the beach. The smile of a pleased king, if she had to try and put a name to it. He'd probably try and deny it if she brought it up.

"As they should. It's not like anyone needs to worry about demon boars or the like this time." He reached for the can of soda he'd ordered, sipping from it as he tracked Jack's progress up the beach. She had something in her hand that was promptly shoved into Cu Alter's face, her every movement full of excitement.

Perhaps she'd discovered one of the 'treasures' Gil had scattered around the bottom of the pools. Unlike his adult selves he could be generous without attaching a curse to a gift. Cu Alter pushed Jack's hands away from his face but nonetheless examined what she'd brought. His long tail wagged in the sand and his Prototype self had to step carefully to avoid catching a spike in his leg.

"The all-day pass was a nice surprise." Rem's voice distracted Gil from watching the exchange between Jack and Cu Alter. He turned towards his master, surprised and not a little glad to catch the soft look she had on her face.

They were safe, up on the veranda, from any stray water balloons or volleyballs. He'd made sure of that. The chairs offered a wide view of the entire water park and Rem's gaze passed over the clusters of her Servants fondly. She leaned back in her seat, fruity drink forgotten as she relaxed. Gil allowed his mouth to quirk and he looked away before she could notice him committing this scene to memory.

_Ah_ , Gil snickered, it looked like Rama had also discovered the extreme waterslide. The King of Kosala wasn't wasting any time in pulling Karna and Arjuna after him. Karna did not look as though he were protesting, arm limp in Rama's grasp. Arjuna, on the other hand, looked like he was digging his feet in a little.

"You mentioned that you missed the island you went to last year." Gil hummed, aware of Rem's eyes settling on him. He didn't look at her this time, pretending to be preoccupied with the sight of Emiya's volleyball game. "I know this isn't the Land of Shadows but... it's a good enough substitute?"

A warm hand settled on top of his head and gently brushed his hair back. Gil shut his eyes, savoring the affection before he looked up at Rem. She smiled, nudging at his cheek with her knuckles.

"This beats it, I think." She told him conspiratorially. "After all, no demon boars."

Gil opened his mouth to answer, to put into words the rising warmth he felt spreading through his chest. He didn't get the chance to - out of the waterslide came a triumphant Martha standing atop Tarasque, with an excitedly cheering Rama beside her on the dragon's back.


	22. Bonds - Brihannala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amid the general chaos of Chaldea, a new face arrives. Unexpected and unlooked for, but nonetheless welcome.

{Bond level 0}

"So," Rem begins, then stops because words aren't the easiest thing to come up with at the moment. Instead she tries to find familiar things in this new Servant - like spotting a little bit of home in an entirely new place.

"Brihannala, right?" She asks with a smile, dropping the tension from surprise that had gripped her shoulders. "I'm jealous. Your eyelashes are prettier than mine. Your hair, too."

Under the fall of her pallu Brihannala's dark eyes shine with amusement. Like she knows what Rem might really be thinking. That she _knows_ and finds it entertaining. It's hard to say, though, because Arjuna is hardly an open book when it comes to his feelings. And Brihannala, lovely as she is, represents a brand-new mystery.

"Do you want me to dress you hair later, Master?" Brihannala returns the teasing in her own low voice. It suits her well - composed and regal, _just_ shy of sultry. "You need not fear. My hands shall be gentle."

"Yeah that's you." Rem laughed, shaking her head. "I mean it though - you look amazing. Is there a particular way you want me to refer to you as?"

Brihannala's hands folded before her. She looked the very picture of demureness, if not for the dancing spark in her eyes. Privately, Rem suspected that Brihannala was Arjuna's answer to the more playful sides of his personality. She had no proof yet, of course, but there would be time for that.

"Brihannala will do, Master." Underneath her veil, Brihannala smiled. "It is my name, after all. We should confuse the others as little as possible."

"Fair enough." Rem offered Brihannala her hand, smiling as though the two of them share a fond secret. "What's your Servant class?"

Brihannala considers Rem's hand before taking it. Her long fingers were warm, rough and calloused in ways that teachers of dance and music likely wouldn't have.

"Rider." Brihannala answers with a trace of irony in her tone. "I was, after all, Prince Uttar's charioteer for a time."

Rem's laughter bounced off the walls of the summoning room, brightening it.

* * *

{Bond level 1}

The reaction of Chaldea's other Servants did not disappoint. More than a few stares followed Rem and Brihannala as they left the summoning room. Rem heard someone - perhaps Tristan - stumble a little over their own feet as they passed. It was difficult to keep a smile off her face as she pointed out the rooms to Brihannala, where the infirmary was and what hours one could reliably find Da Vinci in her workshop.

Brihannala absorbed it all without complaint, her expression attentive as they made their circuit. She only paused when Rama, arms laden with sacks of rose petals for Nerofest, happened to glance their way and freeze. Rem hung back, fingers still lightly curled around Brihannala's, and waited.

Rama's mouth pursed as he cocked his head to the side, studying Brihannala's face before suddenly smiling. A pleased look softened his eyes and had it not been for the cargo he was carrying he might have swept Brihannala into an embrace.

"It is good to see you, niece." He chuckled warmly. "I hadn't thought to hope for such a meeting. How are you enjoying our Chaldea?"

"Pleasantly enough." Brihannala let go of Rem's hand, bending her knees and ducking her head with only the faintest of smirks. "Though one might feel eyes are prone to staring, when a new face emerges."

"Always." Rama sighed. His smile returned quickly enough and it brightened his entire being. "But there are wonderful things here as well. Come and find me when you have the chance - it would be wonderful to race against you!"

Rem swallowed around the urge to laugh. "Not everyone likes running as much as you do, Rama."

"Ah, Master." A familiar gleam surfaced in Rama's eyes. His smile widened. "It may be as you say - but the exercise does the mind and body good. If you had not locked yourself up in your room the last time you were ill, perhaps a run might have..."

"And we're going." Rem nudged at Brihannala's shoulder, relieved when she was met with no resistance. "Nice talking to you, Rama. I'm sure Nero wants her rose petals!"

Brihannala stretched her legs to match Rem's hurried stride, hiding a smile as Kosala's king laughed after them.

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"Oh." Arjuna's face was difficult to read, his expression closed off as though this were the very first meeting all over again. He studied Brihannala's face and her bearing, one hand half-curled into a reflexive fist. Like some part of him wished to reach for something.

Brihannala, veiled and watching him with equal scrutiny, only folded her hands in front of her once more. "Arjuna." She greeted, voice mild. "It is a pleasure."

One corner of Arjuna's mouth twitched but Rem couldn't discern if he was suppressing a smile or a frown.

"I see." He managed at last, slowly relaxing. Arjuna smiled, delicately, like he did when he didn't want to be mistaken for impolite. "Yes, it is a pleasure. Welcome to Chaldea, Brihannala."

"Thank you." Brihannala dipped her head, dark eyes full of a different sort of spark. "I look forward to working with you."

* * *

{Bond level 3}

Out in the field, away from the sterile whiteness of Chaldea's halls, Brihannala felt more at ease. She dug her toes into the soft grass to savor the feeling of it, pleased to see that their campsite had not been demolished in Master's absence. She also savored the look of surprise on Diarmuid's face when she eased a knife free from the folds of her sari to help with the skinning of the group's dinner.

"I am not unfamiliar with the wilds." Brihannala told him, her hands coated in thick blood that was only just beginning to lose its warmth. She steadily went through the process of cleaning the deer, unruffled by the gore.

Diarmuid, for his part, did not insult her by making a remark about the appropriateness of women getting their hands dirty. It raised Brihannala's opinion of him, a little.

"You're good with a knife." He replied, helping her turn the carcass over.

"Thank you." Brihannala did not smile at him and he did not smile at her. They worked together quickly, mostly in silence, and once the meat was cooking over a fire Brihannala excused herself.

It was fortunate that there was a stream nearby. She washed her hands and arms, her pallu, and kept the knife close at hand. So far there had been nothing in this singularity to cause great alarm but time in this form had taught her to always be careful.

She returned to camp just as Rem did, sari clean if a little damp, and felt no shame in double-checking that all members of the party were accounted for.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

"Do you know how to defend yourself, Master?" Brihannala asks, watching Robin carefully guide a strip of gauze around his arm. The wound itself was shallow, thankfully. Once they returned to Chaldea it would be gone.

Rem looked up, thoughtful. "You mean without magic? I can throw a punch but that's... well, that's about it."

"Let me teach you." Brihannala's tone cooled. A sense of urgency weaved through it and she was pleased see that Rem had learned enough of her nuances to pick up on it.

"Would that..." Rem trails off, giving Brihannala a faintly concerned once-over. Unlike Robin, Brihannala had no injuries but she could guess what was weighing on Rem's mind. "Would that be okay?"

The curve of Brihannala's mouth, to someone who did not know her or Arjuna very well, might have only looked amused. To family, to one friend, they would have been able to see the cutting edge in it. Perhaps Rem saw it as well, if the subtle shift of her expression was anything to go by.

"I am a woman," Brihannala said with deceptive gentleness, "but I lived all the other years of my life as a man. My memories and skills as Arjuna have not faded, Master. Even Gandiva would answer my call, if I needed it at this moment."

"I get that." Rem assured, sitting up and slowly flexing her hands. The tips of her fingers trembled a little. Brihannala was certain she is not the only one who saw it. "But would you be comfortable teaching me? There's a big difference between a Heroic Spirit and a regular human. And you're still one of the strongest around."

Laughter, deep and pleased, coaxed Robin into abandoning his show of inattention. He looked up, catching the joyous light that made Brihannala's eyes shine and looked away. If he smiled, even a little, that was his own secret.

"I know how to mind my strength." Reaching out, Brihannala closed her fingers around Rem's own. The callouses on Rem's hands were different from her own - made from casting curses and runes. From improvising weapons instead of being trained to wield one.

"Magic cannot protect you from everything." Brihannala mused quietly, savoring the very human warmth of Rem's hand. "And if we cannot come to your aid then I at least want you to be able to fight."

Something flickered across Rem's face, disappearing between bone-deep fatigue and shy gratitude. Her fingers curled around Brihannala's and gently squeezed.

"Just don't break me in half, okay?" Rem teased. "I don't think Dr. Roman would be able to fix that."

"I am not Bhima." Brihannala countered, chuckling.

* * *

{Bond level 5}

"You should calm yourself." Brihannala's voice, seemingly emerging from nowhere in the dark, was enough to make Arjuna jump. He did not spin around as he might have once, when they had both been young. Instead he turned with deliberate slowness, every inch of him the picture of composure.

It went unsaid that each of them knew it to be a lie.

Arjuna's mouth twisted, hands balling to fists at his sides. Both were such familiar gestures that Brihannala could only marvel at it. The two of them - the very same person. Merely taken from history at differing points in their life. All to help save humanity from extinction.

"You do not find this unnatural?" Arjuna swallowed, forcing himself to relax. "That you might stand there, even as I do? That we can both exist at the same time and the world itself not collapse?"

Brihannala blinked, slow and easy, then gently reached down to brush a curl of hair from Rem's sleeping face.

"The Blessed Hero, Arjuna, shall always exist." Brihannala mused, glad that their Master continued to sleep. "Be he a man as nature dictated or a woman, as he was cursed to be for the length of a year. We are the same, you and I. And we are different. Perhaps just enough that it does not matter if we occupy the same space."

Looking up, Brihannala fixed him with an appraising stare. A corner of her mouth rose and Arjuna narrowed his eyes at the sight.

"I doubt that her affection for me shall usurp what Master feels for you." Brihannala remarked, sounding far too much like Krishna in her controlled amusement. "So there is no need to prove Nakula right by stomping around like a bull."

" _We_ do not stomp." Arjuna countered, frowning.

Brihannala laughed, still lightly running her fingers through Rem's hair. It came as a surprise, then, when their Master rolled over onto her side and gave them both a groggily displeased look.

"Stop fighting." Rem muttered, her voice still thick with sleep. "Or I'll _make_ the two of you share a room with each other. Got it?"

Arjuna, almost able to cover the aghast look on his face, stammered his way through a suitable apology. Rem grunted, blindly reaching for the blanket she had wiggled out of in her sleep. Brihannala only shifted to make the process easier, far too comfortable in her place on the other side of the bed to give it up.

"Shoo." Rem's hand flapped absentmindedly in Arjuna's direction. "Too early for an identity crisis."

* * *

{Bond level 6}

"Do you intend to summon my entire family, Master?" Brihannala makes no attempt to hide the curiosity in her voice. If there is a hint of exasperation in it, she feels it might be somewhat deserved. The heroes recorded by the Throne and the Holy Grail could well be called endless. With good reason, considering. One would be _lucky_ to summon and contract a specific Heroic Spirit from a particular era.

To try for _four others_ , all very specific in their placement in humanity's history, seemed like madness.

Even with her lap buried in notes, books and the sides of her hands marked with ink from several pens Rem looked undaunted by Brihannala's question. She looked up, calmer than expected and oddly unrepentant.

"Would that make you happy?" Rem asked, focusing all her attention on Brihannala's face.

_And what sort of question is that?_ , Brihannala nearly countered.

"To see them again would bring me joy." She replied instead, busying herself with shifting the unorganized pile on the bed into something more manageable. "It would be a lie to say otherwise. However," Brihannala closed one of the books that had been in danger of falling off the bed, voice soft. "The task we face is already beyond what our family faced in life. We do not know if we can succeed, Master. To bring that uncertainty upon them..."

To say nothing of what pain it might bring, if any of them fell in battle. _Again._

It happened. Servants died, returning to a spiritual form until the Master could summon them again. They felt the pain of their wounds, the slickness of blood when they were injured.

"We lost each other once already." Brihannala finally continued, willing her voice to be steady and ignoring the prickle behind her eyes. "As much as I would enjoy their company, the price might prove too high."

Rem's shoulders slumped, eyes lowering guiltily to the page she'd been reading.

"Sorry." She offered, not looking at Brihannala. "I didn't... it didn't come to me in those terms."

"The thought is a kind one." Brihannala admitted. "My brothers would gladly help, if they knew the stakes."

"Tell me about them?" Rem looked up, hopeful. "Books only say so much. And the story winds up skewed, anyway."

Brihannala chuckled. "I suppose a biased source could be better than an out of date textbook."

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"I don't get it. You're a Rider-class but you use a bow." Euryale's sweet face clouded over with thoughtful disdain. It faded in the next moment, her mouth curving with a sickly-sweet smile. "Could it be that your sense of worth is so attached to archery that you cannot exist without it? Even as the misshapen _thing_ you are now?"

Brihannala paused, glancing up at the goddess through her lashes. Small as she was, Euryale nonetheless carried a heavy air about her. A familiar sort of pressure - not unlike how the court of Indra felt, to a mortal.

"I am myself." She replied slowly, watching the faint twitch of Euryale's expression warily. Memories of Uravshi stirred in the back of her mind and from them Brihannala tried to form her response with caution. "If my form does not please you, goddess, I fear such a matter is out of my hands. As for my use of the bow, well..."

Brihannala smiled, quick and elusive. "Archery was my greatest passion, though I _am_ capable of existing without it."

The scoff which rose from Euryale's throat was deceptively soft. Her eyes had narrowed, though her smile still remained in place.

" _Blessed Hero_ , they called you." Euryale crooned. "Poor thing. You still cling so tightly to it, don't you? Even if all those gifts did nothing to keep you from dying, in the end?"

Brihannala felt her mouth tighten. Euryale saw it, and worse, reveled in it.

"Even your own father picked another over you." Medusa's sister pointed out, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. " _Later_ , of course. But then, for all you trained _so hard_ to be perfect, you were never very good at keeping his attention. _Were_ you?"

She laughed, the sound like tinkling bells. All the more hideous, perhaps, for the childish delight on her lovely face.

" _Poor_ Arjuna." Euryale giggled. " _Poor_ Brihannala."

"That is enough." Rama's voice cut through Euryale's amusement like a blade, startling them both. Euryale's shoulders rose as their eyes met, dislike flickering across her face even as a mask of stern disapproval settled on Rama's own. Brihannala glanced between them, frowning.

Euryale gathered herself first, straightening up to her full meager height. "Defending your _favorite_ again? Or is it that you feel guilty for what you _didn't_ tell him?"

"None of your business." Rama informed her coldly, less the boyish youth he presented to make their Master at ease and more the King he'd been in life. "It is unseemly that you would dredge up mistakes of the past simply to cause pain. This once, I shall excuse it. _Leave_ , Euryale, before I change my mind."

She glared, looking very much like a coiled serpent ready to strike before she abruptly tossed her head and turned away in a swirl of skirts.

"Very well. Attend to your _plaything_ while it lasts. She was boring anyway."

They watched her go, the trailing length of her hair disappearing around a corner. Brihannala sighed, slowly lifting her gaze. Rama held himself stiffly, hands curled into fists. When he noticed her looking he attempted to relax, letting out a sigh of his own.

"That was uncalled for." Rama began, before Brihannala could decide what to say. "I am sorry that I did not arrive sooner. You did not deserve such treatment."

"I have been through worse." She answered mildly, relaxing herself now that the Grecian goddess had taken her leave. "Still - you have my thanks."

Rama shook his head, surprising her with a grave frown.

"Once," he said slowly, "I did nothing while one that I loved was falsely accused. I listened to others instead of the one who mattered most and bowed to their wishes. Not again." Rama's tone hardened, his expression stony. "Never again."

"I am not Sita." Brihannala reminded him softly, hoping that such a statement would not be going too far. "And you owe me nothing."

Rama's eyes darkened, his mouth twisting with sadness. "I know. But still. There were many things that perhaps could have been handled differently back then. For you. And for myself." He added slowly. "Yet we are here, against all logic and chance. So I would make reparations where I can, because you are dear to me. _Niece_."

That last word brought a smile to Rama's face, dispelling the anguish that Sita's name could invoke in him.

Despite herself, Brihannala laughed. "We are not related, to my knowledge. Why call me such a thing?"

"I am an Avatar of Vishnu." Rama shrugged, his smile growing. Now he seemed more the cheerful young man who traded jokes with others, easily as breathing. "I'm older than all of you children. As such, you are like my niece. Why? Does it offend you?"

"Not quite in those words." Brihannala mused.

Rama's smile shrunk into a pout. "Come now. I gave you my chariot, after all."

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"You would like the twins, I think." Brihannala measured the length of the bandage, wrapping it around Rem's calf and secured it. She kept her voice soft and mild, the better to not cause alarm. Thankfully the soldier's sword had not struck an artery. A small blessing, perhaps, but an important one.

"Nakula and Sahadeva?" Rem managed in-between controlled breaths. She looked too pale, blood and dirt smeared across her uniform. Brihannala nodded and did not focus on how conveniently the enemy's ambush had been arranged.

She helped Rem to her feet, looking over her shoulder at where the others still fought. So far, none of the enemy's men had managed to get past Rama and Karna. Between the two of them the ground was littered with corpses, soil over-saturated with crimson. Brihannala's palms itched, the phantom weight of Gandiva calling to them.

"They would like you as well, I'm certain." Brihannala did not pay the words much attention as they left her mouth, checking that their group had not been flanked. "The three of you could cause some trouble, I imagine, with your love of pranks."

Rem laughed, the sound unsteady and strained. She put most of her weight on her good leg, double checking the number of command seals on the back of her hand.

"Never thought I'd see three of India's greatest being fussy." She joked, deliberately ignoring the frown Brihannala sent her way. "You can join them if you want. Gandiva's arrows can go farther than a normal bow's."

"I am _not_ leaving you alone." Brihannala told her firmly. Ahead of them, the crackling light of Rama's _Brahamastra_ consumed everything in violent, brilliant light. Brihannala covered Rem's eyes, turning her own face away just in case.

A sound like the earth itself splitting open drowned out everything else and Brihannala did not blame Rem for clasping their hands, squeezing it for reassurance.

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"Do not think you are leaving that spot, Master." Rama warned, a hand on one hip. "I'm humoring this request, even though I think it is foolish. But you should keep your movement to a minimum until your leg heals. Or must I ask that Nightingale accompany us?"

Rem scowled, shifting on the log she'd picked for a seat. It wasn't uncomfortable, per say. But even that little movement made the muscles in her bad leg twinge and Rama was already making his _I told you so_ face when she tried to hide her wince. She sighed, watching Arjuna and Brihannala discuss where they would set up their practice targets.

"If you bring Nightingale you know she'll be extra vigilant about you too." Rem pointed out, glancing at Rama. "You're just as bad about doing things you shouldn't when you're hurt."

"Special circumstances." Rama waved aside her attempt without much care. "I did what I had to in order to save Sita. _You_ , on the other hand -"

Rem quirked a brow at him, cutting him off. "You charged ahead to fight _an army_ with eighty percent of your heart destroyed by a cursed spear. Don't _'special circumstances'_ at me."

" _On the other hand,_ " Rama continued smoothly, as if she'd never interrupted. " _You_ do not have the advantages that I possess. Your body is still human, Master. I am asking you to exercise _caution_."

"And don't take that tone with me." He added, frowning. "Our contract stands and you are my current Master, but I am still King of Kosala. Show respect to your elders."

The look Rem sent his way was fond, if exasperated.

"Respect has nothing to do with pointing out that you're pretty bad at taking care of yourself when you're injured too." She remarked, carefully shifting again. "I watched Nightingale carry you in a bag on her back for that singularity. Funny as it was, you've got no room to talk."

"Are the two of you done?" Brihannala asked, Gandiva in hand. At some point she and Arjuna had finished setting up their archery course. Looking at them, standing side by side, it was easier to tell how similar they still were.

Rama perked up, eyeing Gandiva thoughtfully before nodding. "Of course. We won't distract you."

"Don't go overboard." Rem leaned back, bracing herself with her hands. "This is a nice forest. No need to level it with _Pashupata_."

Arjuna looked away, reaching up to fiddle with his collar. Brihannala caught the motion and turned towards him, disbelief written clear across her face.

"You did what?" She asked, sounding as though she did not quite believe what Rem had said. Even Rama was staring at Arjuna, both brows raised high.

For his part, Arjuna managed to look suitably sheepish.

"It was _one_ time, Master." He protested, gaze darting between the three of them. "I did not... I do not intend to forget myself this time. You have my word."

"You leveled a forest with _Pashupata_?" Rama interjected. _"Why?"_

Brihannala angled Gandiva towards the ground, still staring at Arjuna. "That was not the purpose for which we did our penance." She remarked, frowning.

"Training." Rem prompted, looking at Arjuna fondly. "He'd mentioned that Agni Gandiva had only been using about ten percent of its original power. We found some monsters lurking around and I told Arjuna he could let loose. It got a little out of hand."

"A little..?" Brihannala sighed.

"The forest." Rem shrugged, smiling now even though she tried not to. "What was it - about three miles or so? All gone. Turned to barren wasteland."

Arjuna hid his face behind one hand, refusing to look at any of them. "I apologized."

"You did." Rem agreed gently, eyes soft. "You did."

* * *

"Sorry." Rem broke the quiet abruptly. Rama looked up from the fire curiously, blinking as his vision adjusted to the dark.

"For what?" He asked.

Beyond their camp Arjuna and Brihannala were still decimating targets with Gandiva's endless supply of arrows. The shafts gave off their own sort of light, turning the otherwise gray shadows to a brilliant blue.

"What I said earlier." Rem quirked one side of her mouth ruefully. "It wasn't appropriate."

"Ah." Rama hummed, settling on the ground beside her. His sword remained in easy reaching distance, firelight dancing over the blade. "I forgive you. It is not as though you were lying, after all."

"And I am sorry as well," he added quietly, watching Brihannala knock one of Arjuna's arrows from the air with a shower of sparks. "For the way I spoke to you. You are not one of my vassals, nor my child. It was wrong of me to address you so."

Rem nudged at his shoulder with a hand. "No hard feelings. Agreed?"

"Yes." Rama chuckled. Then, "Do you think it would be possible to stop them, at this point? The forest is still whole but their dinner shall get cold long before either of them stops."

"I... think it's a family trait." Rem lowered her voice conspiratorially, making Rama lean back a little so he could hear better. "But if you know how to get their attention then be my guest."

He said nothing, for a moment, as arrows continued to streak between the trees.

"Well," Rama began, sounding somewhat disappointed. "It would be counterproductive if I used _Brahamastra_ to get their attention. A pity Hanuman or my brother Lakshmana aren't here. It would have been settled long ago."

"Bribery it is." Rem mused, then prepared herself to whistle.

* * *

{Bond level 10}

"Your father named you Koshiri?" Brihannala tilted her head curiously. Her long, dark hair moved with her, whispering over her shoulder. "Is there a reason you don't go by that instead of your nickname?"

Rem gathered up what she could of Brihannala's hair, quietly appreciative of its smoothness. "Stop moving. I can't brush your hair right if you do that, y'know."

"Apologies." Brihannala righted herself, remaining still as Rem gently eased a comb through the ends of her hair. "Was that too familiar a question to ask?" She posed the question carefully, staring out into the shadows of Rem's room.

"Not quite." Rem answered, focusing on her task. It was soothing, to be honest. Even if a part of her was still jealous of how pretty Brihannala's hair was. "My dad was the only one who called me that. I was Manuela to my mother and Abuela."

She tapped Brihannala's shoulder lightly with the comb. "Not that you get to talk about _my_ nickname, considering how many names in general _you_ have."

"Fair enough." Brihannala's chuckle softened her voice. "Why did you dye your hair blue?"

"I like blue." Rem shrugged, careful not to tug on Brihannala's hair. "That's it, really."

Brihannala made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat, but said nothing else as Rem coaxed tangles and snarls from her hair. Once that was done and Rem began to braid it she spoke.

"May I call you Koshiri?"

Rem checked her progress, then tied the braid off gently. "Why?"

Brihannala's shoulders lowered a little, her posture slowly giving way to a slouch. Nowhere near as bad as Karna's, thankfully, but noticeable when one considered how she usually carried herself.

"The sound reminds me of home. In a sense." Brihannala admitted softly, sounding tired. "But it was not my place to ask. I apologize."

Rem studied her back, how Brihannala's braid slowly fell over one shoulder. Then, carefully, she eased her arms around Brihannala's shoulders and held her close.

"You can call me Koshiri." She said quietly into the darkness of Brihannala's hair. "It sounds pretty when you say it."

One of Brihannala's hands clasped Rem's own, warm and solid.

"Don't tell Rama though." Rem smiled. "He'll make a fuss about me not telling him."

* * *

{Extra}

"You're certain you're okay with this?" Rem cradled the saint quartz in her hands carefully, studying Arjuna and Brihannala's expressions. The unease she could understand - no one ever really knew what might come out of a large summoning like this. They might get lucky and be able to call on the people they wanted.

Or, worst case, it was a bust.

"We need the help." Brihannala sighed softly, folding her arms across her middle.

"As much as we dislike the thought," Arjuna picked up where she left off with surprising ease. "It would be prudent to secure more allies. My brothers are the best there is, in such a case."

Rem glanced between them once more, the edges of the quartz scratching at her palms. In the electrical light of the summoning apparatus the stones gleamed with all the colors of the rainbow, sending fractals of light across their faces. When neither of them voiced a change of opinion she let her shoulders drop.

"All right." She offered them both a smile, turning to face the circle engraved into the floor. "Here goes."

With practiced ease she tossed the saint quartz into the circle, briefly turning the space above the circle into a kaleidoscope of color. As they vaporized the apparatus began to hum, spheres of light coalescing from the remaining sparks the quartz had left behind. Each sphere started to whirl, increasing in speed until they formed a ring of light that was too bright to look at.

Brihannala turned her face away as the first pulse of light flared, announcing the arrival of a summon. Arjuna covered his eyes with a hand, attempting to brave the glare with hopes of being the first to see who or what the new arrival might be. Rem said nothing, taking a step back as a shape took form.

By the time it was done, it was impossible to see the circle itself. Five figures stood within its center, four of them looking similar enough to be related. The fifth, a woman, carefully stepped away from the group. The bow slung over her shoulder gleamed with the same colors as Rama's sword, nearly as long as its owner was tall.

Arjuna made a sound low in his throat, lowering his hand as the first of the other four took a step forward. Brihannala sucked in a breath, starting forward just as the rest did.

* * *

{Bonus}

"He picked me up." Rem said again, still attempting to smooth her hair back down.

Brihannala hid a smile. "Bhima does that. You will get used to it. You needn't worry. My brother is more gentle than you might think. Harming a woman is not something he would do."

Rem nodded, still looking faintly dazed. "Anything else I need to know? I wasn't expecting them to show up all at once. Or Sita."

"Breathe." Brihannala remarked lightly. "You will have plenty of time to learn about my family. No one expects you to know everything all at once."

"Getting you all to work together is going to be like herding cats." Rem muttered, her voice lacking any sort of heat. "I just know it."

Karna, silent and unseen since before the summoning, only hummed. "You might try and summon Krishna, if it is a cat you wish to deal with. He could be unpredictable like one, if he chose."

"Right." Rem sighed. "I'll keep that in mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Servants can be summoned from different points in their lives, it's not too far of a stretch to think of Brihannala as a summonable hero. She needs more love anyways.


	23. Bonds - Bhima

{Bond level 0}

Yudhisthira barely manages to form the first syllables of a greeting before Bhima sweeps her up, laughing at her startled yelp and lifting her high. Rem clings reflexively to him, dizzy with the sudden change and desperately missing the floor that had been under her feet just a second ago. To her right the twins shake their heads and chuckle. Behind her, she thinks she can hear Arjuna raising his voice and demanding that Bhima put her down.

Being held up against Bhima's shoulder feels a little bit like leaning on a warm mountain and Rem swallows back her nervousness to look down at him. He's smiling, watching her collect herself and for the first time she really sees the huge mace he carries on his back.

Despite the strength probably needed to swing that weapon around Bhima hasn't hurt her. His hands are steady. Gentle, even.

"Are you afraid of heights?" He asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Not really." Rem manages. "Usually. Put me down?"

There were better ways she could have said that, probably. But he just laughs, easing her down gently and letting her go once she finds her balance.

"Bhima." He says proudly, folding arms that could possibly crush Charles Babbitt across his chest. "Berserker."

That made since. Rem nodded, plucking up a smile of her own. "Good to have you. I'm Rem." She'd offer her hand for him to shake, like she'd done with some of her Servants, but he'd just whisked her up like she weighed nothing not but a few seconds ago. Handshaking was probably unnecessary in light of that.

"We know." One of the twins, which she wasn't sure, hummed. His brother elbowed him in the side and they traded knowing amused looks with one another.

"Pardon?" Rem glanced between them, then at Yudhisthira and Bhima.

The smile on Yudhisthira's face was faint. Hardly more than a brief quirk of his mouth. "Once we knew our brother had been summoned, each of us waited for our own turn. To arrive all at once is an unexpected blessing."

"You forget your sister." Brihannala mused, smirking when Yudhisthria's gaze dropped to the floor. 

"Please conduct yourselves peaceably, brothers." Arjuna sighed. "There are many more Servants here than just our family."

Bhima snorted. "We shall get along without your preaching, little brother."

"Time for the tour." Rem interrupted, before Arjuna could get riled up. "Ready?"

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"This place feels like another exile." Bhima makes a face at the changeless white of Chaldea. At the lack of humanity in it, save for what personal effects the staff keep in their offices and personal rooms. "I would have preferred a forest."

Roman finds it in himself to chuckle, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck. A part of him understands - really, he does. It was just a shame that the original Director had been adamant on such a sterile environment.

"We do have a garden sector." He offers tentatively. When Bhima's stares at him Roman hurries to add, "Ah - well, you know. Can't really grow anything out in the Arctic! We had to make sure we could support ourselves out here without solely relying on the Mage's Association for help. So it's not, well, _terribly_ impressive maybe - but the grass is real and..."

"You jabber like a demented monkey." Bhima cut him off, looking unimpressed.

Roman masked a wince, dropping his hand to his side and swallowing back the words which probably would land him in his own infirmary. "I get that a lot. It's up to you if you'd like to see the garden. Otherwise you'll have to wait until Rem does a supply run or a new Singularity shows itself."

"And you give up far too easily." Bhima surmised, a smirk curling his mouth. "Still. At least there is _something_ here that does not reek of metal."

* * *

{Bond level 2}

Edison's hand claps Bhima on the shoulder with surprising strength for a man who has the head of a lion. Still, it does not have the same amount of power that Balarama possessed and Bhima scarcely feels it after a moment. He dusts off his hands, pleased with their haul. It is good to find things that kill time. With so many Servants and only one Master, the ability to busy oneself is invaluable.

"Magnificent!" Edison roars, the echoes of his voice bouncing oddly off his workshop. "If I'd had you within my army we wouldn't have needed to worry about gathering resources! You're sure you did not strain yourself too much?"

It is odd, in a way, to see the lion-man's eyes soften in concern. Bhima smiles, lifting his chin at the pile of metal they've retrieved.

"Hardly." He says. "I used to carry twice that when my family lived in the forest."

He does not mention how swinging his mace for hours on end had helped with that. Or the fact that he could drag even more scrap away from the ruined parts of Chaldea until none remained.

Edison's eyes twinkle appraisingly. It is a familiar look. Not one Bhima feels generous enough to indulge for much longer.

"If you will excuse me." Bhima nods his head to the Presi-King. "My brothers will complain if I return to them smelling of sweat. Nakula in particular."

Disappointment rises in those oddly expressive eyes Edison has. But then it fades and he claps Bhima on the shoulder as though they are old friends. "Well if you find the time I'll have more work for you. Bring your brothers! I'll keep you all busy until you drop!"

Bhima takes his leave before his tongue can have its lead. He has no doubts about Edison's ability to overwork people, but Bhima will not be anyone's pack mule. Let alone allow someone to turn his family into one.

* * *

{Bond level 3}

"Had we known," Bhima forces his voice to remain calm as he speaks, "that so much had already been lost because of this _King of Mages_ , we might have arrived sooner. He would not have had the chance to get away with such treachery."

His little brother covers his mouth with a hand, attempting to disguise a frown so that their Master does not see it. Rem looks away, marking her place in her book before gently closing it. The title is not one Bhima recognizes immediately but he has learned that she likes to read simply for the pleasure of it. He'd never really thought of such a mundane task as grounding, before. After hearing of the chaos that had been in London, a part of him understands.

"Solomon's got the 72 Demon Gods on his side." She says, eyes distant and a little sad. "And it makes catching up to him difficult. But as long as we can secure the Grails, we have a fighting chance."

Rem tries to smile when she looks up at him. He recognizes what sort of smile it is. Meant to convince those who see it, almost as much as the person wearing it in the first place. At her side, Arjuna sneaks him a cautionary glance and subtly shakes his head.

"I have fought rakshasas." Bhima tells her, softening his voice. "And worse. Let the King of Mages use his puppets. My mace will fell them and then we can see what his magic can do once I have broken his hands."

She laughs, which is not quite what Bhima expects. Wariness he would have understood given his class and the stigma that comes with being a Berserker. He's frightened others, in the past. But Rem's face brightens as she laughs and the stress and the fatigue he'd glimpsed behind her smile disappears.

"I like him." Rem nudges Arjuna with her elbow gently. To Bhima she says, "I'd like to see that, I think. Give the Demon Gods something to worry about."

Arjuna fights back a smile admirably enough. Bhima makes no attempt to hide his own.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

"What are you doing in here?" An irritated voice demands and Bhima slowly turns his head to look over one shoulder at the speaker. He sees a man, tall and lean muscled like the younger students of Drona used to be. The stranger glares at him with hardened brown eyes, arms folded over his chest. At most, the top of this interloper's head barely reaches Bhima's chest.

"Cooking." Bhima tells him shortly, in no mood for interruption. He's exhausted the neglected tasks Da Vinci had gladly presented him with and keen to avoid Edison now that he knows the man's inhumane work policies. To the stranger he asks, "What of it?"

For whatever reason, one Bhima does not truly care about or desires to learn, this displeases the newcomer.

"It's late." He says, as though he alone is the keeper of Chaldea's pantry and kitchen. "Dinner was hours ago. No one is supposed to use the kitchen once we clean up and shut down."

"A pity." Bhima remarks mildly, making no move to cease stirring the _kheer_ he is making. "Why not amuse yourself some other way and restock the spices, since you claim yourself to be the authority in here."

That earns him a low sigh tinged with further irritation. He hears his unwelcome guest shift and hides a smile.

"You do what you want." The other man says resignedly. "I get it. But you're not allowed to start trouble in my kitchen."

Bhima spares him a look. "The only one causing trouble here is you. I will go when I am finished, no sooner. And besides," he smirks, narrowing his eyes. "I do not see your name on anything here, stranger."

"That's it." Fuming, the shorter man reaches for him - fully intent on dragging him out if he must. Perhaps, if he were dealing with one of Bhima's other siblings, he might have succeeded.

What he gets is Bhima's arm pushing him back with _just_ enough strength to send him back a few steps. He nearly overbalances, catches sight of Bhima's taunting smile, and decides that politeness has no place in this conversation any longer.

It only stops being an amusing scuffle and avoids being a true fight when the _kheer_ is nearly tipped over and both of them rush to save it. Once they make sure that none has been lost to the stove or the floor they part, breathing sighs of relief. The stranger surprises him when he speaks, voice free of the condescension it had previously.

"Good catch." Grudging respect surfaces in those eyes. "What is it that you're making? _Kheer_?"

"Indeed." Bhima lowers the heat, giving the other a thoughtful once-over. "A favorite of mine. And my brothers', when they care to admit it."

That earns him a nod. "You'll have to tell me what you put in it. The smell is better than any I've come across before."

Some of the irritation Bhima feels softens at that. An appreciation for good cooking is something he can certainly understand, even if moments ago he'd been ready to toss this upstart out the door.

"I can do better than that." Bhima smirks, catching the man's attention. "Why don't you join me? Telling you when be a poor lesson when you can taste it for yourself and learn."

Annoyance passes and pensiveness takes its place in the man's expression. He glances at the kheer, then at Bhima, before shrugging.

"Suppose I can't pass up a free meal. What's your name?"

"Bhima." He replies, turning back to the stove. "And yours?"

"Archer. Emiya."

* * *

{Bond level 5}

The first time Bhima trains with the others - not his own brothers, whom he knows about as well as the scars on his hands - Beowulf catches his eye. Not terribly surprising, perhaps. Beowulf's laughter carries and his delight at fighting, at violence, nearly matches Bhima's own. The understanding, such as it is, only goes so far.

Beowulf is terribly proud of his weapons, much like Bhima is his mace. Without those, however, Beowulf's fist is a good substitute. He catches Bhima hard across the jaw with a right hook and for a moment Bhima hears a faint ringing. Then, with a smile and little preamble, Bhima punches the smaller man into a tree. It shudders with the impact, trunk cracking deeply and Bhima knows from experience that a lesser man - a fully _mortal_ man - would not be able to get up again.

His training partner yanks himself out of his impromptu prison with a heady laugh, shaking splinters of wood from his body and paying no mind to the ones that don't quite come free. Beowulf's eyes are bright, even as a thin trickle of blood escapes the corner of his mouth.

"Not bad." Beowulf brings his scarred hands together in a boisterous clap, spitting blood off to the side. "Maybe you should try again."

Bhima grins and flexes his hands, heart lighter than it has felt in what seems like years. "Perhaps I should."

* * *

{Bond level 6}

Exhilarating as combat can be Bhima found that the ability to have a long soak in the baths Chaldea staff had kept hush-hush about to be pleasant. Showers were well and good, he supposed. But being able to actually sink into warm water up to his shoulders to relieve aching muscles would always be better. For he didn't much care for Chaldea's sterility, this was actually nice.

What he did not expect was feminine laughter. The sound cut through the relaxed fog he'd slipped into, something about the cadence singing of _danger_. Opening his eyes Bhima looked around, preparing himself for whatever might be found.

A woman, smaller even than he Master, laughed at him from her spot further down. She'd sunk her feet into the water and idly moved her legs back and forth, leaning back on one arm as she brought a tiny cup to her lips with the other. A pair of horns rose from her head, rosy in the steaming air. Bhima raised a brow, slowly pushing himself up.

"Oh no," she chuckled, "don't leave on my account. Do continue relaxing. The view isn't bad... for a human."

Suspicion gnawed at the edges of Bhima's mind as he settled back into the water. The sense of danger didn't quite fade, but he saw no weapon within the woman's reach. As if to make light of his scrutiny she poured herself another cup of... something from a jug on her other side. It looked see-through to him and he watched her down it with peculiar ease.

"Would you like some?" She asked, catching his stare. When she smiled, the points of fangs could be seen.

Bhima frowned, eyeing the cup and the jug she still held. Warnings filtered through his mind, of demons that offered rare delights so that they could feast on those who partook in them.

"And what would be the price?" He rumbled, studying her carefully.

Her smile did not fade. Rather, it sharpened. "Only your time. Your sense. Eventually, perhaps, your life if you tried to match me drink for drink."

As if to punctuate the statement she sipped from her little cup, sighing in pleasure once it had been drained. With ease she refilled it with the jug.

"Of course, your divine blood might protect you for a while..." Draining her cup once she moved to stand, flashing him a taunting smile. "But you would eventually fall. Let me know when you decide to drown yourself in pleasure. I _always_ ensure that my guests are satisfied."

"Likely not." Bhima answered lowly.

She laughed, padding away from the bath on nearly silent feet. "If you change your mind, merely ask for Shuten-Douji. It would be a delight to entertain you, _Bhima_."

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"Heard you got surprised by Shuten-Douji." Rem gently blew on the piece of meat she'd speared, her other hand waiting to catch any spill from the sauce she had made to go with it.

"Here, try this." She held it up to him, as far as her arms would allow her to reach. Bhima leaned down to obey, curling a hand around her wrist to steady her. He recognized the taste of boar but not the sauce.

His mouth tingled with it. It was not unpleasant.

"A little longer over the fire." He advised. "But it is good. How did you come to know of that woman paying me a visit?"

Rem drew her hands back, satisfied. "Shuten told me. Well... as much as she tells me anything. But she mentioned you weren't interested in sharing a drink."

She looked up at him then, serious and concerned; half her face bathed in firelight. "You okay?"

Bhima smiled and reached out to brush a loose bit of hair from her face. "I have faced worse than a single demon wishing to tempt me with poisoned drink. You won't lose me that easily."

Rem's mouth curved. "Good to know. Help me get the rest of this ready for everyone? I'm sure boar'll be a nice surprise for them."

"Cheeky." Bhima replied without heat, drawing back. "Did you hunt it yourself?"

"I had a lot of help." She laughed, leading him towards the fire pit. "Want to come with, next time?"

His answering smile seemed to be enough. Still, he added, "It would be a fine opportunity to teach my brother some humility."

* * *

{Bond level 8}

Something cool and smooth brushed against her cheek, disrupting her sleep. Rem shifted, trying to turn away from the contact. It seemed to work until she felt it again, this time over the back of her hand. Her fingers curled in the blanket and she cracked an eye open to look at what the source might be.

Tiny black eyes stared at her, scaled jaws parting to admit a long dark tongue that flickered in the air for a second. The serpent raised itself up a little to better inspect her hand and Rem swallowed thickly as its forked tongue ghosted over her skin. It... tickled more than anything else. But that didn't explain how a snake had gotten into her room or how long it had been there.

Satisfied with whatever it found, the serpent lost interest in her. It turned, scales hardly making a sound over her blanket, and slithered away. When she finally plucked up the courage to move Rem peeked over the edge of her bed. Getting up was a slow process, finding her day clothes and putting them on another. She gave her room a careful search, relieved to find no more odd visitors lurking under a pillow or in the pocket of her coat.

"They are mine." Bhima told her mildly, later, when she'd mentioned that morning's surprise. He didn't look at all surprised himself, only favoring her with an amused grin.

"Do not worry. They'll have no interest in hurting you. Unless, perhaps, you step on one."

Rem, feeling an ache in her neck from fitful sleep and having to tilt her head back to look at him, returned his cheer with a flat stare of her own. "A little head's up would be nice, next time. I don't think anybody here has antivenom for celestial nagas."

Something slender and white moved on his upper arm, uncurling from his armor and bending to look at her. Bhima's smile only grew as the serpent revealed itself, looking considerably smaller without its hood flared. He offered it his other hand, pleased when it curled around his palm. Then he turned that same hand towards her and Rem leaned back a little as the serpent's tongue flicked at her.

"There are only curious." Bhima assured, cradling it as though the divine creature weighed noting at all. "You need not be afraid."

"It's cute." Rem offered, holding the snake's black-eyed stare. It's tongue poked out again and she stuck out her own in mimicry of it. "But still not good for sleeping."

Bhima only laughed, returning the snake to his other arm. It curled around his bicep and flattened itself, melding into armor once more. "I shall keep that in mind."

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"That is a Demon Pillar?" At a glance he only saw twisted, blackened flesh dotted with bulbous crimson eyes. Even after he blinked, wary of closing his eyes for too long, the sight did not change. Not really. When one of those eyes fixated on him, impossibly, Bhima frowned under its glare.

Rem nodded, the light of the summoning circle fading now that her saint quartz had been spent. She looked haggard, dirt and grime turning her uniform into muddied gray. Her eyes were trained on the monolith of horror rising from the ground, jaw set and a peculiar sort of resignation in her stare.

"One and the same." The smile she flashed him was more teeth than pleasantry, a way to hide a grimace of dread. "Think you can handle it?"

Bhima tested the weight of his mace, the feeling of it in his hands comforting. The familiarity of it, if nothing else. Beyond the immediate reach of the now spent circle he could see Yudhisthira waiting beside a Caster that he didn't immediately recognize.

"I think," he began softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "I shall have fun with this."

"Glad to hear it." Rem said quietly, her tone dark as though this.... thing had personally done her some wrong.

He wondered at that, then decided it did not matter. Hefting his mace Bhima took his place at his brother's side, ready for the fight.

* * *

{Bond level 10}

"Bhima." Rem called, "Pick me up."

He paused, lifting a brow as she did not slow her pace in walking towards him. A smile brightened her expression, along with a giddiness he hadn't seen in some time. Dusting off his hands Bhima turned towards her, curiosity piqued.

"I thought you were afraid of heights." He mused.

"Very funny." Rem chided, coming to a stop at his side. Her smile didn't falter as she looked up at him, the spark in her eye turning mischievous. "Euryale proposed a contest to see who could collect more fruit than everyone else. We've got two minutes and she's got Asterios. I thought you and I could win, considering. You're fast and you have a good eye. I'm not as short as Euryale is and can take directions."

Bhima cocked his head to the side, looking past her towards the beach. A crowd had already started to gather and he thought he could spot his brothers among them.

"The prize?" He asked, more out of formality than real curiosity.

Rem shrugged. "Bragging rights, mostly. It'll help get the chores done faster. Euryale was bored when she came up with the idea. But I wouldn't mind through in ascension materials if you want." Her smile returned, quick and brilliant.

"It is good enough." Bhima returned her smile, offering his hand. "Come. I will show the little goddess and her friend how it is done."


	24. Nakula - Unexpected

Satisfied that the trash his master had been using as makeup had been disposed of, Nakula does not think twice about letting himself into his master's quarters. The door is unlocked and opens as soon as he stands before it. He feels only a brief whisk of cold air as it closes behind him and Nakula blinks so that his eyes will adjust to the darkness of Rem's room faster.

He does not expect her to be there, frozen mid-step from the shower; one of Vlad III's shirts hanging loose on her shoulders. Least of all does he expect to see what he does, too distracted to think of feeling shame for staring at that moment.

The softness of Rem's belly is a ragged mess of scar tissue, stretching from her side to the gentle curve of her hip. Below, her thighs and calves play host to a criss-crossing of fainter scars. Starbursts mark places where arrowheads have bitten into her flesh. The faint pink of burns seem darker in Chaldea's electric light. Even her feet have not been spared some manner of harm, the top of her left foot sporting a web of too-pale skin that Nakula thinks might have come from bones being crushed.

He glances up, seeking more, and only just catches glimpse of what he suspects is an exit wound from one of Gandiva's arrows slightly above the spot where the trio of claw marks reaches their widest. Then she pulls her (stolen) shirt closed and shifts her weight, tucking damp hair behind her ear.

"Did you need something?" Rem asks, not quite meeting his eye as she folds both arms over her chest.

"No." Nakula answers truthfully. "I had no plan in mind but now I see that perhaps I was right in coming here."

Her mouth twitches with a frown at that, eyes lifting to meet his own. One of them looks slightly off and Nakula uses such an observation as convenient an excuse as any to close the distance between them. He does so with an Assassin's quickness, tipping her face up for better inspection once he was near enough. Under the brief touch Rem stiffens, shoulders drawing up, but she does not order him away.

Her right eye does not focus on his face as it should, Nakula notices. Neither, really, does her left one either. A second or so's difference between their reactions but he is not sure if it is because of the light above their heads or not. Still, it bears noting and he studies the faint collection of scars that dot her face and neck. Scratches, probably, from debris and things in the wilderness. Now that he is close enough to see those, Nakula can also see a pattern of darker tissue on her shoulders through the now translucent cloth of her shirt.

Her back, Nakula suspects, might bear the worst damage of all from the way she holds herself. Firmly planted and stiff, ready to resist if he were to reach out to touch her again.

"A little aloe on these," Nakula begins with a feather-soft brush of his fingers over her cheek, "will take care of much. I have something of my own we can share for the ones you do not want others to see." He does not look down at her stomach or the furious knots which spider across her bosom like spreading ink. The work of Karna's lance, unless his eyes were betraying him.

Rem, for her part, doesn't act like she is not aware of what he's talking about.

"You'd be willing to share your secrets?" She asks instead, opting for humor to cover the vulnerability he's caught her in. "I thought no one was allowed to do that."

"I shared my remedies with Draupadi." Nakula corrects mildly, indulging in the urge to brush a little more of her hair away from her shoulders. She'd get cold from it, and possibly get sick. And, he noticed, the shampoo she had been using had turned the consistency of her hair too brittle.

"I would not mind sharing them with you." He adds, settling his palm against her cheek with all the gentleness he might use with a spooked animal. She did not flinch. But neither did she relax entirely.

Rem's eyes drop from his, settling on the pattern of his tunic instead. "It'd be a waste, really. There's not much out there," she raised her chin towards the door behind him, as if to gesture at the world in general. "That can do something about this."

"You are not a waste." Nakula cuts through her protest easily, turning her face back towards him. "These," he takes her face between his palms, smoothes his thumbs over her cheeks. "do not lessen your loveliness. True, my potions and oils cannot make such marks disappear - but you will not have to expend mana in using an enchantment to make yourself look unfazed."

Warmth soaked the pad of his thumb when she blinked and Nakula brushed the evidence away with care.

"How long have you known?" Rem leaned away to rub at her nose, eyes over-bright and wet. Folding one sleeve over her hand (to cover the latticed scars or simply make the process easier, Nakula wasn't sure) she wiped at her eyes and brushed the remaining moisture from her cheeks.

He shrugged, offering her a thin smile. "Deception and beauty are things I am well-versed in. More than any of my brothers, certainly."

"You're like a peacock." Rem mused, one corner of her mouth lifting as she looked up at him again. "Vain as hell."

"I know a cure or two for pain as well." Nakula pretended not to hear her jibe, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss against her forehead. "Let me pamper and spoil you, Master. Then you will see yourself to be as lovely as I do."

She laughed. It was shaky, a little too frail for his liking. But it was a laugh all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rem's body is a mess at this point. The only reason she looks unscathed is because of a few magic tricks and some well-placed makeup (which Nakula just threw out, because it's all chemical junk and he does not approve)
> 
> Not a proper Bonds chapter, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Hoping to have something else posted soon-ish.


	25. Bonds - Gawain

{Bond level 0}

"Servant, Saber." He says, then jolts as a crash echoes overhead. On instinct he ducks - just in time to avoid a slab of what might have once been the roof of a house. Through dust he can see who he thinks is his Master. A young woman in a bloodstained white coat and dark skirt coughs, pushing ash-splattered hair from her face.

"Nice to meet you." She manages once she has regained some of her breath. Outside of the dilapidated building they are hiding in he can hear a beast roar. A tremor moves through the ground at nearly the same time and he wonders if such a creature might exist that it could cause miniature earthquakes with its voice alone.

Clearing a path through the rubble he offers her his arm. "I must apologize. It does not seem as though we have time for a proper introduction."

The seals on the back of her right hand flicker as she follows him out. Outside the sunlight was weak, choked with dust kicked up from combat. He squinted, surprised to find himself summoned to a place that looked close to home. The buildings were different, yet the air itself had a familiar taste to it. Another roar split the tentative quiet and this time he was able to pinpoint its source. A massive thing with a body not unlike a lion's, though its tail looked to be a great serpent.

"Chimera." The young lady supplied for him. She stepped away from his support, straightening up as humanoid figures made their appearance. Servants, if he had to guess. An Archer and perhaps a Rider, though it was difficult to tell.

"Allow me to prove my loyalty by lending my blade." His sword's hiss as he unsheathed it went largely unnoticed. Overhead, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter. "I am Gawain, Knight of the Sun. Please stand back, Master."

A laugh, short and only somewhat amused, left her mouth. To his dismay she matched him step for step as he turned towards the fighting, right hand pointed at one of the other Servants.

"Not a chance. Good to have you though."

* * *

{Bond level 1}

"I think that's the first time we've ever had a summoning quite like yours." Rem mused, offering him a steaming cup. Ash, dust and plaster have left their mark on her uniform and hair but he can spot no injury on her person as he accepts the drink with a murmured thanks.

"Gawain, right?" She asks, blowing into her own cup and blinking through the steam. "Of the Round Table?"

Gawain smiles, feeling less awkward now that they have the chance to introduce themselves. Even if he is currently standing in someone's living room in full armor, Galatine at his side. "The very same." He answers. "I apologize for not warning everyone to clear away beforehand. My Noble Phantasm is..."

He trailed off, searching for the right word. Rem's gradually widening smile almost makes him think she is laughing at him, however gently.

"Impressive?" She finishes for him.

"To a point." He counters, finally taking a sip of his drink. The tea is not one he knows, but someone has added honey to it. It's not bad, honestly. "Might I be so bold as to inquire how long we shall be here?"

Down the hall, in another room, he can hear someone raise their voice. A woman, perhaps the long-haired Rider he'd seen charge up the chimera's back to decapitate it.

"Until everyone's recovered." Rem answered, folding her left arm across her stomach. "There's no Singularity to resolve here, just monsters. I was hoping it wouldn't take this long but we weren't prepared for those things."

"My blade is yours." Gawain would bow, if it didn't mean spilling the remainder of his tea everywhere. From what he can tell his new Master does not mind. "If there is any other service I might be able to provide, please do not hesitate to ask."

* * *

{Bond level 2}

"It is good to see you, Sir Gawain." A young lady, pink-haired and oddly familiar, greets him once he's been cleared to leave Chaldea's infirmary. He's a little relieved, to be honest. The nurse who had checked him for anything worse than a few scrapes had been unusually terrifying in her intensity. This lass, however, seems rather gentle.

Gawain smiles, stooping into a bow as he would for any lady of Camelot. "The pleasure is mine, miss. Though I fear I do not know your name..?" When he straightens he is able to catch the brief flicker of surprise that crosses her face.

"M-Mashu." She says, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "Mashu Kyrielight. I am Master Rem's Demi-Servant. Shielder class."

Something clicks in the back of his mind, like a unlatched door swinging open. The puzzling familiarity suddenly begins to make sense and, before he can help it, Gawain's expression softens.

"It is an honor indeed, Lady Mashu." He tells her with all due gravitas. "I look forward to working together with you. Something tells me it will be... quite welcome. Like stepping into the past."

She blinked, a faint tinge of pink dusting her cheeks. Then her gaze hardened and Gawain was struck by the spark in her eye.

"Whatever it is you're thinking about, remember that Master comes first." Mashu squared her shoulders, her short stature no longer a point to be counted against her. She was suddenly more fearsome, somehow, as though someone else had taken over. "I won't forgive you if you make things difficult for her."

Gawain blinked, startled, then smothered his surprise into a cough. "I... of course. I would never dream of such. Truly."

Mashu backed down a little, regarding him warily through her glasses as though she thought him to be a liar. Then she nodded, satisfied.

"Good."

* * *

{Bond level 3}

"Never thought I'd see you here." A voice breaks the silence of the hallway and Gawain jumps, reaching for his sword. There's a rustle, like cloth, but no matter how he strains his eyes Gawain cannot pinpoint the source. To him, the hall is empty - seemingly vast in its sterile white walls.

The rustling comes again and then he is greeted with a man's face where there had previously been nothing. Short, choppily cut red hair. Tired eyes. An unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth like a toothpick. The rest of this stranger gradually comes into view - his clothes as green as the forests Gawain remembers from home. Perfect camouflage too, if they had been in such an environment.

"Do I know you?" Gawain asks, still on the defensive. He does not want to strike down an ally or cause damage to the building. But he dislikes the thought of someone invisible watching him even more.

"Not really." Slowly lifting one hand the man in green takes the cigarette from his mouth, tucking it away somewhere on his person. He looks odd without it, but when he smiles Gawain can see that the expression is somewhat lopsided.

"It's just," the stranger continues, shrugging, "that anyone from the Round Table is... unexpected. Your reputation precedes you and all that."

Gawain arched a brow, frowning. Truthfully, he doubted the reason to be so simple. "And who are you?" he asked carefully, not quite relaxing. "For surely you are a hero of some renown, to have been summoned here. I know of a few legends involving men dressed in green - though you do not resemble the Green Knight I faced at all."

Something cold and a little bitter flickered across the man's face, twisting his mouth and darkening his eyes. It was an odd change. Not unlike watching a shadow pass over a lake.

"That's the joke, isn't it?" The stranger murmured, easing back a step as though he meant to leave. "We might even be from the same country and you would never know."

Before Gawain can respond the stranger is leaving, tugging down his worn green hood as though covering his face might provide protection from some perceived threat.

* * *

{Bond level 4}

Lancelot's expression clouds the instant he sees Gawain. He freezes in the doorway, eyes darting about the room as if some other unpleasant surprise might be lurking nearby. Gawain, for his part, attempts to soften his own features.

"Lancelot." He greets, dipping his head in acknowledgment. Then, "Master did say that we would need a team of Sabers for today's training."

It draws a nod out of his fellow knight. Lancelot enters the room stiffly, swallowing.

"Have you been at Chaldea long?" Gawain asks, because he is curious. And he has forgiven the wrongs which had driven them apart in the past. Hindsight, as ever, remained clearer than the present as one might say.

"A little while." Lancelot manages. He seemed to relax bit by bit the longer Gawain treated him as a friend and not as an enemy. One corner of his mouth lifted and something wistful darts through his eyes. "Long enough to be glad at the sight of another knight who served the Round Table."

Gawain chuckled, unable to help it. "Yes, that is good. I had been worried that I had arrived alone. It lifts the heart to see that is not so."

"Did you meet Mashu?" Lancelot asked, folding his arms. "She is... rather something, isn't she?"

For a moment Gawain's eyes lower and he wonders just how Lancelot can deal with it. The truth. But his friend seems to be holding up well. Lancelot looks, truth be told, the closest thing to happy as Gawain can easily recall seeing him.

"Yes." Gawain agrees gently. "She is."

* * *

{Bond level 5}

Rem stares and at first Gawain thinks she is looking at the disheveled mess of his armor with disapproval. Then he realizes that she is actually staring at the wheelbarrow he's borrowed and the precarious load of potatoes in it. Her eyes settle on him after a minute and Gawain waits, smiling pleasantly as he counts the seconds until she speaks.

"You need a hand with that?" She asks. Gawain feels his brows lift a little. That was not, exactly, what he'd expected her to say.

"The sun is high, Master." He assures, regaining his smile. "I will not get tired from this. Though, perhaps, Cu Chulainn would appreciate a hand."

Rem glanced back the way he'd come, unable to do more than glimpse the farm they were helping. "Is he still over there? I would have thought he'd be done by now."

"...the vegetables do not agree with him, it would seem." Gawain picked his words delicately, doing his best not to laugh. "When last I was present, he'd tripped over a root at least twice."

"Him? Trip?" Rem's mouth twitched and she glanced towards the farm again. "Alright. I'll help him out if you don't mind checking up on Karna once you're done. He might have been distracted by the horses again."

"Understood." Gawain promised.

* * *

{Bond level 6}

"Ah." The sound leaves Ozymandias's throat like a proclamation. Gawain halts in his tracks, turning curious eyes on him. Ozymandias smiles widely, golden eyes taking in Gawain's appearance all at once.

"Another fine man blessed by the Sun. Although you are no king, certainly no Pharaoh, I shall allow it! Your presence here is auspicious indeed!"

Gawain managed a smile, lowering his head carefully. "You are most kind. I'm only a humble knight, I fear. But it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He is not certain what else he might say. Truly Ozymandias had presence enough to fill a room and then some, but Gawain had no experience in treating with pharaohs.

"A good answer." For some reason Ozymandias's gaze brightens as he folds his arms across his chest. "Though you are not the Saber I had in mind, I look forward to witnessing your skill in battle. Do not disappoint me."

Confusion settled across Gawain's expression even as he lowered his head. He had no knowledge of this other Servant which Ozymandias spoke of, yet to say so might incur the Ozymandias's wrath. The weight of royal expectation was no stranger in Gawain's life but perhaps this would be something to truly put him to the test.

"It shall be the furthest thing from my mind." Gawain replied at last, choosing each word carefully.

* * *

{Bond level 7}

"Gawain." Rem's voice caught him off guard and he turned, blinking as she pressed something soft and waxy into his hand. Looking at it he recognized the wax parchment that Emiya sometimes used when baking to ensure that nothing stuck to his pans. Loosely folded he carefully unwrapped this unexpected gift to see what was inside.

The smell of ginger and cinnamon tickled his nose, calling up memories of home. Of his time in the Round Table's service. Gawain stared at the little man-shaped cookie in his hand and smiled, repressing a chuckle through sheer will.

"What?" Rem glanced between the cookie and his face, something like worry in her expression. "Crap. You don't like gingerbread? I should have asked first, sorry."

"It is not that." Gawain assured, looking at her with a fondly amused glint in his eyes. "I only did not expect to receive your favor, Master. I am honored. My oath may have been given in haste due to the circumstances I was summoned in, but I shall renew it now; if it would please you."

She stared at him for a moment, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "My what?"

"Your favor." He repeated slowly, feeling his own amusement stutter for a moment. He held her gift up for emphasis, careful not to damage the piping of sugar that made it resemble a person dressed in their holiday best.

"In my time gingerbread was given to knights by the ladies who wished to bestow their favor upon them. It was often done before tournaments or as an act of courtship. Ginger was thought to raise the bravery in a man's blood and..." Gawain paused, confused. Rem had a hand pressed against her mouth, her own attempt at restraining laughter much less subtle than his own had been.

He lowered his eyes and bowed his head to her, feeling pink stain his cheeks. "Forgive me. I should not have assumed. Times have changed and I should-"

"No, no." Rem lightly pushed at his shoulders, urging him to straighten up. "Don't beat yourself up over it. I should have done the research." She offered him an apologetic smile, then nudged at his chin with her knuckles.

"It's almost Christmas. Emiya and I, we figured it might be nice to surprise everyone. Take their minds off everything."

That did make more sense, Gawain conceded. Even so he took his time wrapping the cookie again, smiling faintly.

"You do me a kind honor, Master." He told her gently. "I am grateful."

* * *

{Bond level 8}

"I never dreamed that I might see my King's abilities put to such use." Gawain mused, watching Santa Alter ready her sleigh. Beside him, Rem busied herself winding another scarf around her neck.

"Was King Arthur always so enthusiastic about the holidays?" She asked, completing the loop she'd wanted to make. Hopefully it would keep out the cold, since there was no telling just how fast Santa Alter would want to drive. "I know in Camelot there were annual feasts, but..."

Gawain smiled. "The easiest answer would be yes. My King has always enjoyed Yule and all that it brings. He made sure that everyone received a gift. Even Bedivere, who often tried to refuse."

"Bedivere can say no?" Rem teased, eyes bright. They shared a knowing look and this time Gawain held no reservations about laughing.

"Yes. Yes he can, I assure you." Gawain assured, wiping at his eyes carefully. He wanted to make the offer to lend Rem his cloak, but it was quite likely the garment would either dissolve once she left Chaldea or would only serve to slow her down. She would need all the speed in the world, he knew, to keep up with King Arthur - no matter what form his liege took.

"Make sure you get to sleep." Satisfied, Rem nodded at him and began to walk towards the sleigh. "Santa won't leave you any presents if you're awake."

No one would be able to sleep in Chaldea, Gawain privately mused. Not until their Master was returned safe and sound.

"Of course, Master." He said instead, lifting his hand in a wave. "Take care!"

* * *

{Bond level 9}

"Will you try and summon others from the Round Table, Master?" Gawain asked. The crackling of their campfire mostly drowned out his question and the night itself was lively. He doubted any of their sleeping companions would hear but kept his voice soft all the same.

Rem tugged her blanket a little closer, staring into the fire as she considered how best to answer. Rubbing her hands together so that her fingers didn't ache so bad she focused on the bob and weave of the flames.

"I'd like to." She admitted finally. "From what I remember there were very powerful Heroic Spirits in Camelot. It would be nice to have as much help as we could, but..."

Gawain waited, chin resting on his twined fingers. He was in no hurry to hear her response. They had come this far together, come that much closer to saving the world. He trusted her.

"But I don't know how many Chaldea can support." Rem continued, stretching her hands out towards the fire. "And on my own I'm not the strongest mage. So if something were to happen, I don't know what I'd do."

"And I don't know how I'd even begin to work with Tristan." She added, glancing at him with a faint smile. "He seems to bring out the worst in Lancelot. And Lancelot is finally talking with Mash, so I wouldn't want to ruin that."

Gawain nodded, satisfied. "Tristan is not always so melancholy, nor does he always inspire Lancelot's faults. We did all learn to work together, in the end. And if you were to be the one to lead us..."

He paused, considering his choice of words. "If it were you, I think it would all work out."

"Thanks." Rem lowered her arms, settling more comfortably in her spot by the fire. "We'll see what happens. I can't make any promises."

* * *

{Bond level 10}

"You look..." Rem trailed off, hands on her hips as she studied him. Gawain blinked, trying to quiet the rush in his veins as the Palingenesis ran its course. The weight of Galatine seemed to hardly matter anymore. Newfound strength coursed through his limbs, even greater than that which had earned him his legend.

Rem's face softened at something. Perhaps the look on his own face had given something away because she shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You look good." She finished at last, looking up at him. "Like you're finally comfortable in your own skin."

Gawain allowed himself a chuckle, moving to kneel. Taking one of her hands in his own he offered her a smile - free of any trappings, duty or otherwise. "I owe this all to you, my Master. If my service can return even a fragment of your kindness then I offer it gladly."

"Get up." Rem eased her hand free of his own, used it to ruffle his hair. Gawain jerked back in surprise, blinking up at her. She only winked. "Save that for your King, if he ever decides to show up here."


	26. Bhima - Acceptance

“Bhima?” Rem asked, hesitating in the door of the kitchen. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, frowning and blinked to make sure that her vision wasn’t playing tricks. “What’re you doing up?”

Turning the heat on the stove to a lower temperature he remarked, “I could ask you much the same, Master. You look cold.” His eyes trailed down to her bare feet, then up to her face. “Couldn’t sleep?”

She picked her way over to where he stood, arms wrapped around herself despite the robe covering her nightclothes. Rem made an attempt to peek at the pan he was tending, turning her head into the curve of his hand when Bhima reached to stroke her cheek.

“Something like that.” Rem answered, preoccupied. “Are you cooking kidney beans?”

“And tofu.” Bhima tucked her hair behind her ear before it could get too close to the heat of the stove. His fingers lingered, warm and rough, coaxing Rem into shuffling closer until her shoulder brushed his side. “I’ve some _paratha_ that will soon be done. Then I stuff it with this. It makes for a good meal.”

Rem nodded, happy to steal warmth from him as she watched him add spices to the food. “Good for keeping out the cold.” She added thoughtfully, the ghost of a smile crossing her face. “Not that you’ve ever seem bothered by it.”

Bhima’s laugh was a low rumble in his throat and chest, like comforting thunder. “I despise the cold. Any one of my brothers could tell you so. It creeps into my bones and makes me remember all the wounds I ever received. Something,” he added slowly, “I suspect you know about.”

She glanced up at him, tired in ways other Servants did not get to see. Still lovely, he thought, only worn down.

“Nakula took the anchor for the glamour.” Rem said without prompting. “I don’t know if he threw it away and I’d still like to wring his neck for it.”

“Subtlety does not always suit him.” Bhima concurred, turning his attention to the pan once more. "Nor does he always have a use for it." The smell rising from it had changed. No longer just the heavy, earthy scent beans usually carried; spicy enough to tickle the nose, savory enough to make Rem’s stomach grumble.

Before she could wave it away Bhima said, “Join me. There is enough for two, even with my appetite.”

“It’s cause your legs are hollow.” She told him with faint humor, stepping away so he could move the pan to another eye and check the oven. The _paratha_ smelled wonderful, spotted with golden brown where the oven’s heat had darkened it. “Everything you eat goes to your legs, then the rest of you. That’s what my mom used to say about my dad.”

“I am not as skinny as Arjuna is.” Bhima chuckled, getting what he needed to start stuffing the flatbread. “But the explanation is a humorous one. Our own mother might have liked it.”

Rem made a thoughtful sound, moving to his side once more. “Let me help? I’m awake enough that I shouldn’t cut myself.”

He passed her a smaller knife with care, angling one of the _paratha_ so that she could observe. “Like this. And then you can take a spoon and fill it. Once they are full we will cut them into squares.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Rem tucked her hair back, pushing the thick mass of it under the collar of her robe for lack of a proper hair tie. She did her best to copy Bhima’s example, slightly more alert now that she had a knife in her hands. By the end there looked to be enough food for three, perhaps even four. They split the washing, Bhima’s height giving him an advantage in reaching the higher shelves.

He brought one of the stools over and lifted her easily when Rem attempted to find another, setting her on his knee and kept her steady with one arm around her back. When she blinked, relaxing her hold on his shoulder, Bhima was pleased to see her mouth quirk.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” She mused. “Do I weigh anything to you at all?”

“Not really.” Bhima hummed, offering her first bite from the plate. “I once carried all my brothers and our mother upon my back and shoulders. Then, I cared only for our safety and paid attention to finding us sanctuary. I would carry them again as many times as needed, regardless.” His hand came up, tucking what hair had come loose from her collar in its place behind her ear.

“You are our only Master.” He added softly. “Bearing anything of yours is my honor.”

Rem smiled, mouth tingling and fed him the half of the _paratha_ she’d been holding. “You’re good. Do all of you make promises like that?”

“I’m a simple man.” Bhima’s eyes curved. “Wordplay is something my brothers have more skill in. What I have is yours, for as long as I can provide it.”  
She had to lean forward a little to reach the plate on her own, reassured by the steady warmth of Bhima’s arm at her back. His teeth closed around the _paratha_ carefully, eyes on hers; warm and serious, content that he’d told the truth.

“You must have broken some hearts, I’d imagine.” Rem mused, less cold now and slowly getting full. “Abuela would be able to tell for sure.”

“I have nothing to hide, from you or your grandmother.” Leaning forward Bhima kissed her forehead, then her closed eyes, before softly kissing her mouth. It went no farther than that, Rem’s fingers finding a way into his hair and the broadness of Bhima’s palm gently pressing her closer. They parted and Bhima polished off the last of the _paratha_ with a satisfied smile.

Rem stretched, confident that he wouldn’t let her fall and sighed. “I can clean what’s left. It’ll help me not fall asleep on you. Which is tempting, don’t get me wrong. You’re _warm_.”

“I can carry you.” Bhima chuckled. “It would be my pleasure. And,” his eyes softened, “my room is closer than yours. You would not have to walk so far.”

“…alright.” Rem gave in without any reluctance. “Why not? It sounds like fun.”

Shoulders lifting with his laughter Bhima swept her up, much as he had the day he’d been summoned; holding her close as they left after putting the plate in the sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't be able to tell you where the sudden weakness for Bhima/Rem came from but there's no regrets involved. And... I felt like I did him a little dirty in his bonds chapter, since I didn't particularly know him or his character well at the time. Hopefully this makes up for it.


End file.
